Evolution
by Disciple of Ember
Summary: As a member of an Inquisitorial retinue, Rein had thought he'd seen it all. A mission to an old mining facility on the planet Cyrridus Delta is about to show him how wrong he was. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A side project I've been working on for a while now. I'm honestly surprised nobody has made a crossover for these two fandoms yet. Comments and criticisms are welcome. Part two will be up when I get the chance to work on it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Elfen Lied**

* * *

The scream of the Valkyrie's engines echoed through Rein's head as they approached the drop point. After having spent so much time listening to such things, the constant noise normally didn't even register to him. Today's target however, was anything but normal.

The planet Cyrridus Delta was a wasteland. A sandy ball of rock constantly blasted by windstorms that could rip a man's flesh right off when it got serious. Water was all but nonexistent, and the closest things to intelligent life that had existed here before the Imperials showed up were some rather large insects that burrowed into the cliff faces. The only reason this inhospitable ball of rock was valuable in the first place was due to the large deposits of valuable ores and minerals hidden beneath the surface. The extraction of which, certainly didn't help the whole 'dusty hell storm' reputation.

In all its history, Cyrridus Delta had only experienced one large scale conflict. A noble (if one could truly be called such in a place like this) by the name of Argentinus Vaserian had established a large facility in the hollowed out heart of one of the massive peaks that dotted the planet's surface.

For a long time what happened in that place had been a mystery, but rumors and speculations of the going-ons had apparently been sinister enough to draw the attention of the Inquisition. A member of the Ordo Hereticus had taken it upon themselves to see if these whispered words held any weight.

Rein was willing to bet that even the Inquisitor hadn't been expecting it to be anywhere near as serious as it had been.

Argentinus was a fething, grox-bred, madman. For years, he'd been working in secret to distribute what had been officially labeled as a plague to every major hive on the planet. This plague however, had nothing to do with Chaos or the followers of the god of disease.

In his crazed notes and writings, he'd gone into great detail about searching for the next step in human evolution. He'd gotten it in his head that the Emperor had tasked him personally with creating the perfect human. A creature free from the flaws and weaknesses of ordinary men.

Needless to say, things didn't quite work out that way.

The mutation rate skyrocketed to ludicrous degrees. Countless families had been horrified to find that their child was a twisted monster. Even as the number of abhumans born grew, Argentinus was already working to expand his testing grounds. He'd started sending out shipments of his experimental infections to confidants on other Imperial planets.

When the truth came to light the Hereticus Inquisitor had fallen on Cyrridus like the manifestation of the Emperor's wrath. He scourged Argentinus's forces from the surface with an army of Cadian Guardsmen as well as a detachment of Battle Sisters from the Order of the Argent Shroud.

The madman and his lackeys put up a hell of a fight, digging into the facility and enduring constant artillery and waves of conscript troops. In the end though, they'd all paid the price for their crimes. The Sisters acted as a vanguard force, smashing through the outer defenses of the traitors and allowing the Cadians to storm the place. From what Rein had heard it had been an all-out brawl in the confined hallways and narrow corridors. One that was quickly decided as expert training and superior skill led the Imperial forces to a crushing victory.

The traitors died, the facility was shut down, and all information regarding the insane experiments of Argentinus were taken away by the Inquisition. Argentinus himself was publicly flayed alive before being burned at the stake for his crimes. The Hereticus Inquisitor had returned to wherever he'd come from, likely with a nice promotion waiting for him, and the Adepta Sororitas had established a small convent on the planet, both to act as a supplementary guard as well as to remind the inhabitants that the God Emperor was always watching even in these barren wastes.

That was it. End of story. Everything wrapped up with a nice little bow on top. Sadly, things were never that simple.

Twenty years later, rumors surrounding the facility had started up again. Disappearances, gruesome remains, and unexplained screams echoing in the night, all supposedly being connected to the damned place. The facility was under new management, a man by the name of Padro something-or-other, and had officially been repurposed into a mine. Whether by luck or design, Argentinus had constructed it directly above a large mineral deposit.

It was all well and good, with nothing conspicuous or suspicious or overly sinister rearing up to show itself. More out of formality than any real belief in heresy, Severus Cartwright of the Ordo Hereticus had taken his retinue to Cyrridus in order to meet with Padro and soothe the fears of an extremely paranoid colony. It was deemed a worthy goal seeing as a riot of the working class would cripple the mining operations, rendering the whole planet just another useless meteorite hurtling through space. Calming them with proof of the baseless accusations being thrown around was the simplest and safest answer.

There was just one _small_ problem.

Shortly after arranging a meeting with Inquisitor Cartwright, Padro had stopped reporting in. All attempts to hail the facility were met with silence. Visual reports stated that the mining operations going on there had halted entirely.

The Inquisitor and his personal guards had quickly loaded up and set out to get to the bottom of whatever new catastrophe had taken shape. With any luck, it would just be a malfunction in the place's systems. Maybe a mining drill had exploded and killed a large number of workers. It could explain why Padro had stopped reporting in, and if enough of the higher ups had died it might also have forced the survivors to stop mining. It all likely had a perfectly reasonable story behind it.

Then again, Rein hadn't survived this long by expecting anything less than Armageddon level disasters. Any talk around the barracks about strange occurrences were undoubtedly the wicked interferences of Eldar witches, any shooting stars lighting up the night sky were certainly the first arrivals of a large scale Ork invasion force, and any stray cough could be nothing short of the touch of a fully-fledged Nurgle cult.

He'd once told that last one to a rather zealous Commissar Cadet as a joke. The look on her face had been priceless, but he'd started regretting it when he'd been forced to explain why she'd shown up at an Imperial Medica building, chainsword in hand, while loudly declaring that she would purge the place of the taint it contained.

Still, nobody had been killed other than a couple Servitors so there was no real harm done as far as he was concerned.

The Valkyrie shook as they started descending. Whispering a quiet prayer to the Emperor, Rein took his place at the front of the cabin. As the longest serving member of Cartwright's retinue, it was his job to be on the ground first in order to ensure the Inquisitor's safety.

A final shudder rumbled throughout the ship before the doors opened up. Mirroring an action he'd done countless times before, Rein took a step and a half-jump, bracing himself for the small drop to the ground. His hellgun gripped tightly in his hands, he rapidly scanned the surrounding area for anything that even resembled a threat. Not being gunned down right out of the gate was a good sign but it was no guarantee.

The outside of the facility was a mess. People were running around in disorganized jumble, shouting in an attempt to be heard but only really adding to the din that filled every inch of the precarious landing area. Off to one side, a group of local enforcers were desperately trying to keep a very upset looking band of Battle Sisters from storming through the barricades.

"Looks like the festivities have started already."

Cartwright's voice reminded him that he was meant to be looking out for threats rather than sightseeing. The Inquisitor stepped past him, his face holding the same amused detachment that Rein had come to expect from him.

Severus wasn't the most impressive figure when compared to those who ran around in full sets of power armor, boasting an entire company of marines at their back, but he was more than capable at his job.

His jet black carapace-style armor looked like the kind of thing Rein would have associated with a low ranking officer had he not personally seen it endure an almost direct salvo from a bolt pistol without more than a few dents and scratches. The man's ever present smile gave a false sense of disarming pleasantness while his piercing gaze did anything but.

Seeing movement, Rein lifted his hellgun a fraction until he spotted what had caused it. A figure quickly pulled away from the crowed, revealing himself as Jerimiah, one of the people who'd organized Cartwright's meeting here in the first place.

The man looked absolutely haggard, but a weary smile fixed itself on his features as he spotted the Inquisitor's retinue.

"Lord Cartwright!" He shouted, drawing more than a few heads much to Rein's annoyance. "Thank the bleeding Emperor you're here."

Jerimiah half-walked half-staggered up to Severus, moving to bow before thinking better of it. In his current state it probably would have sent him tumbling to the floor. He took a moment to compose himself, panting lightly before straightening out again.

"It's been a nightmare trying to keep everyone in line around here. There's been some kind of security breach in the mine. Can't get any details since nobody else seems to know what's going on either. There's something loose in there though, and from what I've gathered it's pretty bad."

"What exactly are all these people doing here?" Severus questioned. "I thought I ordered you to keep the landing pad cleared until I arrived."

He flinched slightly at that, offering a sheepish grimace in return.

"Apologies lord…" He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I acted as quickly as I could but with Padro's disappearance, a lot of people showed up before I could get here. I managed to get things under control, but a lot of damage has been done already."

Cartwright's expression never wavered, but Rein could practically hear the gears in his head blazing to life. His smile became almost indiscernibly strained by the prospect of dealing with damage control.

"Give me the full report. Everything that has happened so far. Why has the facility gone offline, what are we dealing with, and how did it get there in the first place?"

Rein silently took the statement as his cue to start glaring at passersby. Anyone who looked like they might be close enough to try eavesdropping was persuaded to distance themselves from the group with a dark look and a readied hellgun if they didn't get the message.

Wiping a nervous sheen of sweat off his forehead, Jerimiah began his explanation.

"Like I said, there hasn't been much in the way of information…" He started, quickly going on as Cartwright's lips twitched downwards by a fraction of a degree. "B-But from what I've managed to piece together, the mine has been put on lockdown. The Sisters confirmed that there are creatures loose inside, but even they don't seem to know what-"

"You allowed the Sisters to enter the facility?" Severus demanded, his voice deadly serious. He wasn't a man who liked having his direct orders ignored.

Jerimiah paled, opening his mouth several times before he managed to find his voice again.

"T-They entered before I arrived lord, I-I-I swear I didn't give them the clearance to do so!" He stammered. "F-From what they've shared, three initiates were sent in to determine the cause of the disturbance. One of the creatures dropped down in their midst and…"

Rein tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for him to go on before both he and Severus realized just what he was implying. The Inquisitor was silent for a moment, casting a sidelong glance at the group of Adepta Sororitas.

"Are you telling me that one of these… _things…_ managed to kill three Battle Sisters?"

It was a pretty tall order all things considered. Still, if it was true it would explain why the other ones looked about ready to burn the whole place to the ground.

"T-Two lord." Jerimiah replied meekly. "The third lost her arm, but she managed to fight whatever it was off before dragging herself out. I've been doing everything I can to keep them from storming the mine. I've even had to bring up your name several times in order to keep them civil."

Severus closed his eyes, digesting the information carefully before opening them again. They now held a very direct energy behind them. He was going into field command mode, something that Rein was, unfortunately, very familiar with.

"And what of the miners?" He demanded. Though he didn't mention it, the look on his face made it clear that he wouldn't forget Jerimiah had used his name without his express permission. "Are there any still alive or have these things killed them all?"

"Only one made it out lord but…" The trembling man gulped heavily before continuing. "He refuses to speak of what happened or what is actually going on inside. Even when I mentioned that you were coming, he still remained uncooperative."

"Did he now?" The tone of Cartwright's voice could have sent a Tyranid Hive Fleet fleeing for cover. "Then I suppose I'll just have to question him personally."

Years of iron-hard discipline were the only thing that allowed Rein to suppress a shudder. He almost felt sorry for the stubborn fool.

"Rein, I have a job for you." Severus ordered, turning towards his bodyguard. "Take your squad into the facility and scout out the building while I'm dealing with the interrogation. You are to find out exactly what these things are, and locate any survivors who may have more information as to how they got here. If Padro is still alive in there, I want him captured and prepared for questioning as soon as possible."

It took a moment for the bodyguard to process exactly what he'd been ordered to do. When he didn't immediately jump to action, the Inquisitor gave him a piercing glance.

"Is there a problem?"

Rein knew better than to openly question his superior's orders, but that didn't mean he would mindlessly throw himself into a meat grinder.

"No sir, not a problem as such." He replied, choosing his words carefully. "I just felt that… considering one of these creatures managed to bring down a few Battle Sisters… wouldn't it be better to wait until more is known about them before sending a team in? Or at least, waiting until reinforcements get here in order to have a higher chance of success?"

It always felt nerve-wracking to voice his concerns to Severus. Despite the way he'd tried to phrase the statement, he knew full well that his Inquisitor saw it for what it really was. He was more concerned with getting killed from an unknown foe than he was with the overall chances of completing the mission.

Much to his relief, Cartwright didn't seem to be particularly annoyed by the hesitation.

"Tell me something Rein, what have you noticed about these creatures so far?" He asked, turning so that he was facing the other man. "Think carefully now."

He was silent for a short while. Severus was trying to get him to think about the situation beyond what he'd been told. It was a tactic the Inquisitor would sometimes use to get him to look at the bigger picture.

"Very little." Rein replied truthfully. It never paid to try and over-speculate to make himself seem more intelligent. "They're deadly and we have no idea what they are. That's about all I've got."

Severus nodded, not disappointed but certainly not impressed either.

"Let me tell you what I see." He began. "One of these beings attacked a group of three Sister Initiates, killing two and badly injuring the third. Even so, the survivor was supposedly able to fight it off even after losing her arm. What does that tell you?"

Rein waited silently, knowing that he didn't expect an answer.

"It tells you that they rely on surprise more than power. While dangerous, they don't seem capable of head on engagements with prepared foes."

"What's more…" Severus continued on, not giving him a chance to speak. "They haven't tried to break out of the facility yet. That would imply that they are either too timid to fight their way out, or they lack the organization to do so."

The Inquisitor fixed him with a final look, drawing himself up.

"To recap, you would be up against a foe that relies on ambush tactics and either lacks courage or leadership. That doesn't sound like too difficult a task for you, does it?"

Rein was grudgingly impressed. It was times like this that he remembered why Cartwright was the Inquisitor and he was simply a man with a gun.

"No sir." He replied, still not entirely comfortable with the prospect but feeling slightly more confident. "It doesn't."

"Good. Now get to work."

* * *

A short span later and Rein was standing at the entrance to the mining facility with four heavily armed troopers at his back. They were a menagerie of assorted soldiers, each hand-picked by Severus for the potential he saw in them. Rein himself was the veteran of the group, and by this point he'd given up trying to memorize the names of those who served with him. While the Inquisitor didn't waste men he was far from gentle with them. In order to make his own life easier, Rein had taken up the practice of assigning nicknames in place of actual titles.

Choir stood nearest to him. He was both the youngest and the newest member of the group. A fresh-faced, blonde haired, blue eyed youth from a prominent family, he'd earned his label with his constant humming of Imperial hymns before and after engagements.

Des, short for despair, was next in line. A middle age woman with dark hair, he might have found her attractive were it not for her perpetual air of depression. She hardly ever spoke and when she did it often ruined his whole day.

Fang stood behind her. He bore a Catachan heritage, and was named for the massively oversized knife that he had on his person at all times. Rein didn't know how the jungle fighter had ended up so far from home, but he'd proven to be an able combatant on many occasions. Unlike Choir, Des, and himself, Fang sported a close range shotgun instead of a hellgun.

Bringing up the back was Stitch. He was the only one who had a nickname before Rein had met him. A notorious mass murderer in the main hive of a colony world, the man had earned his reputation by dissecting the bodies of more people than Rein cared to know about. When he'd asked Severus what scum like that was doing here and not gracing a pike atop one of the Imperial churches, the Inquisitor had responded by saying "a little evil goes a long way." He couldn't deny that at this point. Next to himself, Stitch was the longest serving member in the squad.

"Are we going to enter or simply stand around all day?" He asked from the rear, checking over his laspistol. It was the only weapon he ever used.

Rein cringed inwardly at the sound of his voice. It was something he'd never get used to. Stitch had always sounded creepy, but an unfortunate encounter with the grill of an ork truck had left him with several bionic organs and a specially modified rebreather grafted over his mouth. The mechanical parts left him sounding like something out of some old horror vod.

"If you want to be the first one in, be my guest." Rein shot back, giving him a glare that made it clear he'd use the man as a meat shield if he kept complaining. Stitch merely rolled his eyes at the look.

"All right, everyone stay close. Keep your eyes open, watch your corners, and be aware of the ceiling. These things will want to jump us so don't give them the chance."

Several confirmative noises answered him as he made his way to the main entrance. The Arbites who'd been guarding the doors stepped aside to let them pass before closing ranks behind them. He could hear Choir doing his pre-battle ritual as they advanced.

The heavy metal doors that marked the entrance to the mine were massive in size. Designed to instill a sense of awe and subservience in those who passed beyond them, they were built strong enough to endure a siege. Rein made his way over to the sensor built into the side. It was a bit unusual to see a skull-probe bearing the insignia of the Inquisition in a place like this, but he supposed that after the events that had transpired this place did technically belong to the Ordo Hereticus.

The morbid looking device flashed a few times while he stood in front of it. After a short pause, the sound of metal grinding against metal signaled the entrance opening up. The doors pulled apart like the gaping maw of some massive beast, waiting to swallow the intruding mortals whole.

Shouldering his weapon, Rein took the first step inside with the others following a short distance behind. Much like the Arbites, the doors moved back into their former positions once the squad was inside. Should they fail, this would keep whatever was inside from having a direct shot at freedom.

The mining facility was uncomfortably warm on the inside. Whatever power sources had been keeping the place in working order had either been damaged or shut off. The main lights were disabled, leaving only the emergency backups on to bathe the halls in an eerie half-light. The soldiers unconsciously drew closer together with the exception of Stitch who was the only one that seemed unbothered by the detrimental conditions.

They hadn't even taken half a step before the stench of death hit them full force. A repugnant mixture of blood, fear, rot, and several other things best not mentioned in polite company. Rein peered into the shadowy blanket that cloaked everywhere that the light couldn't reach. Nothing stood out, and no sound alerted his senses. As best he could tell they were alone for the moment.

The mine was large, encompassing much of the inside of the mountain it was built into. It could house and sustain a staff of several thousand workers along with guards and overseers to keep them in line. Due to the massive scope of the building, it took several minutes of walking before Rein's squad encountered the first bodies.

"Bloody Emperor…"

Choir's quiet exclamation encompassed what they'd all been thinking fairly well. A dozen corpses lay strewn about a moderately sized room that looked to be some sort of a recreational area for those who were high enough on the ladder to enjoy such things. From the arrangement of furniture, it looked as though they'd tried to barricade themselves off from whatever was hunting them.

It hadn't worked.

The troops that had taken shelter here had been slaughtered. Blood stained the otherwise pale and unmarked metal walls while a discarded assortment of autoguns and shell casings littered the floor next to their fallen wielders.

What stood out to Rein was not the brutality with which the guards had been killed, but rather the variety. Several appeared to have been sliced to pieces with precision that went far beyond what a standard chainsword could hope to rival. Others looked as though they'd been pulled limb from limb with strength that would rival an Ogryn. One man had his head twisted around a hundred and eighty degrees. Major overkill if the goal had simply been to break his neck.

Rein nudged one of the bodies with his boot. Behind him, Choir was swallowing heavily as though trying to keep himself from gagging. Des looked over each body with a distant sadness and Fang had taken a moment to relieve one of the dead of his pack of lho sticks.

"What do you think Stitch?" Rein asked, turning to face the man. While he detested his presence, he knew that the psychopath was very skilled at recognizing weaponry and the effects they had on the body.

"I think they're dead."

Rein resisted the urge to jam the butt of his weapon into Stitch's side, instead shooting him a serious glare that allowed for no banter.

"I can see that." He stated. "But I'm having a rather difficult time figuring out what it was that killed them. Would you be so kind as to lend your expertise on the subject?"

A raspy crackling that might have been a chuckle issued from behind his mask.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Stitch replied. "These injuries don't look like anything an Imperial weapon would inflict. Nor does it match the arms of any xenos that I'm aware of. If we want to figure out what did this, we'll have to do it the old fashioned way."

Rein cursed under his breath. He couldn't say for certain what was causing it, but this whole situation was starting to get to him. It shouldn't have been so bothersome. He had a fair amount of experience with life threatening situations, but this whole place just gave him a bad feeling.

"All right, enough gawking at the dead." He said at last. "Everyone form up. We won't get this job done by standing around."

The others all stood to attention at his words, making ready to proceed. All except for Choir. Instead of falling back in line, the boy was looking off into the distance with a frown on his face. It didn't even look like he was paying attention.

"Hey kid, I said we need to get moving." Rein repeated, growing annoyed by his actions.

Choir turned to him, an odd expression on his face.

"Sir…" He started, looking decidedly nervous. "Do you hear that?"

He was about to ask if the kid had hit his head on something when he became aware of a very faint sound. It was soft, barely audible, likely coming from far away. It was hardly there, but when he realized what it was the sick feeling at the back of his neck intensified tenfold.

It was crying.

"Shit." Fang growled, his eyes narrowing. "That's just disturbing."

"Someone is still alive in here!" Choir insisted. "We need to find them. They might be hurt, or stuck or something. Come on, it doesn't seem too far off, if we hurry we should be able to get to them in no time."

"Hold on one damned second." Stitch interrupted, his arm latching onto the boy's shoulder. "You hear the sound of weeping in a facility that has an unknown enemy lurking around and your first instinct is to run towards it? Are you suicidal or has your naivety wiped away all common sense?"

"Does that sound like some kind of monster to you?" He shot back, wrenching his arm free of the iron grip. "There's a subject of the Emperor in need of assistance! It's our duty to come to their aid."

"Last I heard, the boss didn't sound too happy with the people in here." Fang stated, putting himself between the two. "If someone _is _still alive, they probably won't stay that way once we get them out of here."

Des merely nodded, not feeling the need to voice her own feelings on the subject.

"You don't know that they had anything to do with what happened here." Choir insisted, looking to the commander for help. "Right sir? We should help them shouldn't we?"

All eyes turned to Rein who had to fight to keep himself from burying his face in his palm. He was supposed to be a soldier of the Inquisition damn it, not a nanny for Throne's sake.

He wanted to agree with Fang and Stitch. Chasing after strange noises was a surefire way to get yourself killed in the field. Unfortunately, Severus had ordered him to find any possible survivors for questioning. He feared disobeying the Inquisitor more than he feared a grief-stricken miner.

"We go to find where the noise is coming from." He stated, directing a stern frown at Choir when the boy wore a triumphant expression. "_Only _because Severus wants someone to question when this is over. Remember, the mission takes priority. If you wanted to spend all your time saving pedestrians you should have joined a different branch of the military."

The rebuke sobered Choir's mood a fair amount. At a gesture from Rein, they all fell into line once more and began to make their way towards the unnerving presence.

Each step forward caused the sensations of unease to grow stronger. Rein couldn't shake the feeling that he was making a mistake by following the sound, but orders were orders. His reflexes hadn't let him down yet.

Nothing leapt out from the shadows as they drew closer to the source. No horrific creatures tried to bar their path. Far from being a comfort, the lack of resistance only made the whole experience all the more strenuous.

He could hear it more clearly now. It wasn't the sound of some traumatized worker as he'd originally expected. Instead, the whimpering moans seemed more like those that a child might make. What a child was doing in a place like this he could only guess.

One last twist in the halls took them directly to the doorway that the mourning was coming from. Lying halfway through the partially opened door was a corpse whose head was missing. Not a promising sign. As they shuffled into position outside it, the noises from inside cut off as though the one making them was fearful of being discovered.

"Fang, Stitch, watch the rear. I don't want anyone sneaking up on us." Rein ordered, speaking quietly and gesturing back the way they'd come. "Des, you cover the entrance with me. Choir, since you were so eager to get to the bottom of this, you get to enter first. Be sure to keep a low profile. We can't give you cover fire if you're blocking our shot."

He'd expected the noble to protest at being thrown into the line of fire like that, but the boy surprised him by giving an affirmative nod and stepping into position.

Rein's grip on his hellgun tightened as Choir edged forwards, nudging the door open with his foot while keeping as far to one side as he could. Once it had been opened enough for him to walk inside without directly stepping on the decapitated body, he silently slipped through the gap.

Rein carefully monitored his own breathing, spacing out each one to ensure that his aim didn't waver. Beyond Choir's shoulder he could see an overturned table. From what little of the room was visible to him, he assumed that their little guide was hiding behind it. Beside him, Des was eyeing the same area, her weapon aimed at chest level and ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Choir took a couple more tentative steps forwards, raising his own hellgun into a ready position as he peered around the corner of the table. After a brief pause, the tension rolled out of his posture and he turned to give a wave to the waiting pair.

"It's all right sir." He called, dropping his weapon into an at ease position by his side. "It was just a child hiding back here. She looks-"

Several things happened at once.

First, a loud ripping sound filled the hall followed by the appearance of a crimson spray tracing across Choir's chest and through his right arm. A look of uncomprehending shock was plastered on his face as his top half fell backwards and his bottom fell forwards.

Second, the table that had been blocking Rein's view suddenly launched forwards as though it had been fired out of a cannon. The metal projectile slammed into the edge of the doorway, its trajectory interrupted causing it to skid into the wall rather than flatten him.

Finally, a pair of eyes met his own. Two orbs filled with the desperate hatred of a cornered animal. A tiny figure dashed forwards, running in a headlong sprint towards him. The sense of danger was blaring like an emergency siren now, drowning out all other instincts with a wave of self-preservation.

Rein fired. The superheated beam of energy from his hellgun cut through the air in an instant, impacting the creature's midsection. It let out a strangled cry that was quickly silenced as he pulled the trigger twice more. Two lasbolts lit up the hall, blasting through the body that had been running towards him and sending it spiraling to the floor.

For the span of several breaths, nobody moved. Both hellguns were trained on the fallen assailant while Stitch and Fang stood vigilant at their backs. The two of them ignored the urge to turn and see what had happened, knowing that it could lead to disaster if they got caught off guard by another.

"Hold." Rein ordered, his eyes never leaving the body. "Keep me covered."

Des gave him a barely perceptible nod, her own weapon primed and ready to put it down for good if it had somehow survived the first three shots.

Rein edged forwards a little bit at a time, taking caution over speed. When he got close enough to see the shape of the attacker more clearly, a grimace formed on his face. It was dead to be certain.

It was a kid, just as Choir had stated before he'd been cut in half. A young girl looking to be no more than five or six years old. For whatever reason, she was devoid of any scraps of clothing.

"Move up." He called back to the waiting troops. "This one isn't going to be a threat anymore."

Regrouping, they showed varying degrees of surprise and apprehension at the sight of the body. She'd nearly been torn in two by the high-powered lasbolts. There wasn't much blood thanks to the cauterizing effects of the beams, but it was a gruesome sight none the less. More so knowing that he'd caused it.

Fang stopped to check on Choir, confirming what had been a foregone conclusion. The boy was very dead at this point. With a frown and a shake of the head, the Catachan relieved him of his hellgun, slinging it across his back in case they needed it later.

"So we are to kill children are we?" Des asked softly, her voice causing icy fingers to run up Rein's spine. "Is this what our work has come to?"

"_That _is no child." Stitch scoffed. "Just look at it. And if that doesn't convince you, look at what it did to _him_." He gestured towards Choir's remains.

At a glance, the girl looked very human. It wasn't until Rein focused on it more closely that he saw the differences.

The first thing that stood out, and perhaps something he should have noticed earlier, was her hair color. It was an odd shade of pink right down to the roots. While it wasn't entirely unheard of for people to have their hair pigments forcibly changed to a certain color, it was a procedure that was both very expensive as well as being highly painful. So either this child had an incredibly high endurance threshold for her age, or it was naturally that way.

The second was a pair of white protrusions coming out of the top of her head. They looked almost like the ears of a cat, but a quick prod confirmed his suspicions that they were made of bone rather than flesh.

"Great." Fang remarked, eyeing her warily. "We've got Psyker mutants running around."

"She wasn't a Psyker." Rein replied, earning him a few questioning glances.

"Not a Psyker?" Fang asked with a skeptical expression. "So does that mean our squad mate just decided to fall apart on the floor? I don't see any power-weapons lying around that he could have been carved up with."

"I don't know what happened to him." He said. "But I know she wasn't using any kind of witchcraft." After having spent a tour tracking down an Eldar strike force, he was far more familiar with warp-sorcery than he'd ever wanted to be. It had a way of distorting the air and leaving behind psychic residue.

He was about to say more on the subject when a buzzing in his earpiece interrupted him. There was only one person who would be looking for him at a time like this.

"Rein here." He said, answering the hail. "Is there something you needed sir?"

"_Good to see you're still alive. I've been having a pleasant conversation with the survivor from the mine, and I've come across some information you may appreciate."_

Knowing his employer, if Severus was contacting him in the middle of a mission it either meant things had changed or what the Inquisitor had to say was vital to his survival.

"I'd appreciate anything you could offer sir." He replied. "We've had an encounter with one of the things already."

"_Have you? Were you able to subdue it?"_

"It's dead now." Rein replied, pausing before finishing the rest of what he'd been going to say. "But so is Choir. He got near the creature and he was cut in half."

Cartwright was silent on the other end. He could practically feel the other man's displeasure at hearing the news. Not daring to risk bothering him further, Rein waited patiently for him to finally speak up again.

"_That is… unfortunate."_ Judging by his tone, unfortunate was the tamest phrase he could have come up with. _"Still, I have learned a fair amount about the creatures you are up against. Listen carefully, I don't wish to repeat myself."_

"Yes sir." Rein answered, preparing to commit the information to memory.

"_According to my friend here, they are beings known as Diclonius. A human sub-species that was originally sought after by Argentinus Vaserian. He attempted to create them by modifying human test subjects into what he believed to be the perfect form. It would seem that Padro has taken up his mantel and managed to succeed where Vaserian failed. These creatures are human in appearance, but bear two distinguishing physical features that set them apart."_

"The hair and the horns." Rein said. "Yea, we saw that on the one that we encountered."

"_Good. That will save time explaining. While the man I've been questioning has been vague in describing the weaponry Diclonius have at their disposal, he did mention that they can only reach targets within a certain range. Two meters seems to be the average limit, but within that range they can rip apart just about any substance and even deflect projectiles up to a certain caliber."_

"Lasbolts work well enough." He commented. "She wasn't able to block those. I'll be sure to inform the others to keep their distance. Thanks for the heads up sir; we'll contact you if we run into any more trouble."

"_Hold on now, that was only part of the reason I contacted you. The parameters of you mission have changed."_

"Changed how exactly?" Rein asked. The sense of danger was coming back, and he had a bad feeling about the way Severus sounded.

"_Put simply, the Diclonius are a rather unique strain of mutation. They could prove useful, but more must be known about them before deciding whether they should be put to the torch. Your new objective is simple. Find as many as you can, and capture them alive."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the massive delay. Since this is developing a lot slower than I'd anticipated, it's going to end up as a three-shot rather than a two-shot.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Elfen Lied**

* * *

Three pairs of eyes fixed Rein in place with several degrees of disbelief. After what they'd all just seen, he could hardly blame them. The bodies of Choir and the Diclonius girl had been dragged over to one side of the room so that they wouldn't get in the way as he outlined the rest of their goal. Their reactions had been about as good as could be expected.

"You're gonna have to run that by me again." Fang said after a brief pause. "Because I could have sworn you just said we were supposed to take the rest of those things _alive_."

"That's exactly what I said." Rein replied. He didn't like the prospect of trying to subdue such potentially dangerous mutants either, but he knew that returning to Severus empty handed was a much worse option. This would probably kill him. Disobeying the Inquisitor would definitely kill him.

"Not to undermine the authority of our oh-so-glorious commander, but did he happen to mention how we were meant to go about doing this?" Stich asked, sarcasm dripping so thick from his tone that it could have been cut with a knife.

Rein sighed to himself. Cartwright had told him a fair amount about the capabilities of the Diclonius, but none of what he'd said was useful in trying to pacify one of them. Most of what he'd said actually made it sound like taking them alive was all but impossible.

"Just what I've told you." He stated. "They have some kind of built in weaponry that can slice through armor like an Ork Warboss through fresh conscripts. They trade off power for range, having an effective lethal distance of only two meters on average. Their weapons can also be used defensively to deflect projectiles including bullets up to around .50 caliber rounds. Lasbolts can't be blocked."

"And none of this information is helpful in the slightest." Stitch finished for him, speaking what they'd all been silently thinking. "It all just emphasizes the futility of this goal."

"Well if you want to be the one to tell Severus no, then be my guest." Rein shot back. "Me? I'll take my chances with the psychic mutants."

"Aim for the limbs."

He felt a chill run through his system at Des's words. The soft surety of purpose in them left a bad taste in his mouth. Stich was less impressed.

"Have you gone daft woman?" He demanded. "You realize that the shock of having a limb blown off by a hellgun will kill them just as surely as if you were to slit their throats yourself."

"I've seen plenty of men survive losing a few pieces." Fang replied gruffly. "Besides, it sounds like the best option we've got."

The hive-world criminal put a hand up to his face, slowly drawing it down over his rebreather with a long-suffering expression. An annoyed groan crackled over the device as he did so.

"_Grown men_ may be able to survive losing a limb if they get the proper attention in a timely fashion." He began, speaking as slowly and condescendingly as was humanly possible. "_Young children_ are much more likely to die of trauma. And, assuming they don't, we're not exactly equipped to give out medical aid to any of them now are we? Blowing off body parts isn't a smart way of taking them alive."

Rein was quickly losing his patience with this whole situation. They were up against an opponent that didn't follow the traditional rules of combat. He wasn't fond of that.

"All right, shooting them won't work." He said, directing a meaningful glance at Stich. "So what other options do we have at the moment?"

For the first time since the conversation had started, the man lost some of his attitude. He looked back over at the bodies piled in the corner, silently thinking. After several moments he turned back with a much more serious look in his eyes.

"Fear perhaps?" He offered. "Assuming they're still sane enough to recognize a threat, that could work. Other than that, I assume that Padro would have had at least some semblance of a failsafe option in place. If I were to make a suggestion, I'd say that's our best option."

Fang and Des turned to Rein, trying to gauge what he thought. There were still more unknowns than he liked, but at this point it was the best they were going to get.

"That's the plan then. We push farther in, search for survivors or information about the security protocols in place, and work from there. Avoid contact if possible. If they come to us, try to avoid killing them. Give a warning shot first. If they keep coming, then put them down. We won't be able to take _any_ alive if they kill us before we have the chance to."

Short. Simple. Easy to remember. Perhaps not the most impressive plan ever conceived, but Rein was a firm believer in staying fluid when it came to strategies in the field. Without another word, the four troopers formed up and filed out of the room in search of their goal. The two new bodies were left where they lay. Assuming things went well, they'd be back to recover or destroy the corpses as the situation warranted.

Reaching up to his earpiece, Rein opened up a channel with the outside.

"_This is Jerimiah, lord. Was there- ah- was there something you needed?"_

The diplomat's voice was momentarily drowned out by a loud noise on his end. It might either have been someone screaming, or possibly a large machine breaking down. Considering that the man was likely assisting Severus at the moment, Rein was more leaning towards the former.

"I need directions." He stated, casting a sidelong glance at a series of numbers that had been carved into the halls for the sake of differentiating them. "We're currently in the living quarters, section A-0334. How can I get to the main security terminals from here?"

A painfully loud snapping sound and the whirring of some kind of engine blared across the link and into his ear as he finished. Gritting his teeth in discomfort at the noise, he held did a quick check on his surroundings. The others were currently watching all sides but it paid to be diligent regardless.

"_Uh… Security… Yes… Uh… If I recall correctly, the security terminals should be located about one hundred and fifty floors beneath you. There should be a service elevator to take you down there. Just keep following the hall you're in until the end."_

"A hundred fifty floors down?" Rein questioned. "No wonder this fething place is overrun. How the hell are they supposed to secure the station if the security measures are buried at the bottom of the mountain?"

He could practically hear the man flinch at the rebuke.

"_I-I can't be sure what the original reasoning for it was but… I… ah… I think that they were trying to keep it hidden. The facility wasn't meant to act as an actual military structure when it was first designed. Argentinus-"_

"All right, I get it! I didn't ask for the damn place's history!" Rein snapped irritably. Stitch eyed him curiously for a moment, but a meaningful glare sent his gaze back down the hallway.

"_M-My apologies lord. I d-didn't mean to... ahem... Yes. One hundred and fifty floors down. I'm sure of it. The service elevator will take you right there. Once you get to the proper floor, it should be clear enough."_

Rein let out a weary sigh, cancelling the connection without bothering to dismiss Jerimiah on the other end. This whole business was starting to wear on him. Too many unknowns. Too many variables. He'd grown spoiled during his time with Severus. The man was rarely caught off guard, and usually had vast amounts of information at his beck and call.

There was no helping it. They'd find a way to deal with these mutants. The servants of the God Emperor were not so easily dissuaded.

"Where to boss?" Fang asked, seeing that he was finished speaking.

"We follow this hallway down to the end." Rein replied, eyeing the number markings on the wall one last time. "There's a lift that'll take us where we need to go. In case you didn't overhear, it's a hundred and fifty floors down from where we are now."

The Catachan frowned like he'd bitten into something distasteful at the news, but nobody spoke up. They'd all known from his reactions during the questioning that it was going to be a very inconvenient journey.

"I don't suppose our guide offered any enlightenment on how to deal with the creatures?" Stitch questioned, covering the way they'd come. Rein didn't dignify the question with an answer.

"Weapons at the ready." He ordered, taking the lead. "Keep your eyes peeled. They might only be dangerous within two meters, but that won't make much of a difference if they manage to sneak up on us."

* * *

Rein was starting to get an idea of just how large the facility was. It took another twenty five minutes of walking in a straight line to reach their destination. During that time, they'd all strained their senses to pick up even the slightest disturbance. Stitch had taken to glancing down at his wrist-mounted auspex device every thirty seconds. Not that he truly trusted it. The damned thing was temperamental at the best of times, and seeing no signs of hostile movement on it only meant that they were marginally less likely to be killed in the next few moments.

Eventually though, they arrived in front of a massive bulkhead door which appeared to be made out of high quality ceramite. Whoever designed it had made sure it couldn't be blown open easily.

An unassuming panel with a voice receiver looked to be the only way past it short of heavy ordinance. Stepping forwards, Rein hit the button just underneath the panel. After a momentary pause, a static-filled synthetic voice issued from the speaker.

_*ACCESS TO TRANSPORT LIFT RESTRICTED. SECURITY LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT. PLEASE PROVIDE PROPER AUTHORIZATION TO PROCEED.*_

"Rein Darius." He said, speaking as clearly as possible. "Personal bodyguard to Inquisitor Severus Cartwright of the Ordo Hereticus."

The machine was silent for another few seconds. When it next spoke it cracked, stumbling over itself several times. Rein was no expert on mechanical systems, but the cogitator sounded as though it was badly damaged.

_*UNAB-B-B-BLE TO IDENTIFY [REIN DARIUS]. PLEASE PROVID-D-DE PROPER AUTHORIZ-Z-Z-ZATION TO PROCEED*_

Letting out a low hiss of frustration, he reached up to his micro-bead to hail the outside once more.

"Jerimiah? This is Rein. We've reached the lift but it needs some kind of voice command to open." He said. Silence was his only answer. He thought at first that the man might simply be hesitating again, but as the lack of response stretched on he realized that wasn't the case.

"Jerimiah? Are you hearing this?" He repeated, frowning at the development. Once again, no voice answered him.

"Fething hell."

There was no static or signs that his connection to the outside had been cut off. Merely dead air. That could only mean one of two things. Either everyone on the other end was dead, which seemed unlikely, or they'd passed inside of something that was masking the transmission.

"The voices have fallen silent?" Des asked, drawing up beside him. Her soft tone left it feeling like more of a statement than a question.

"Something's blocking us." Rein replied, closing his eyes momentarily against the dim, crimson lighting that filled the halls. The sound of settling metal and stone droned on in the back of his mind. "We've lost communications with the outside and the lift won't grant us access."

Stitch eyed the panel out of the corner of his eye, tapping one finger against the wall absently.

"If you wish, I could attempt to… persuade… it to open for us." He offered. "I have some moderate experience with getting machinery to work."

For a brief moment, Rein entertained the idea of letting him have his way with the mechanical blockade. It was a tempting thought, but he knew far better than to accept.

"Not a chance." He stated flatly. "The last thing we need right now is to piss off the thing's machine spirit. I'd rather not have the lift drop us while we're on the way down."

"What the hell are we supposed to do then?" Fang demanded, his eyes never leaving the trail his weapon sighted off to the leftmost branch in the hallway. "Pack up and leave? I don't think the boss'll be too happy if we show up empty handed."

"Probably not, but we don't have much choice in the matter." Rein said with a note of finality. "Taking chances puts you on the fast track to an early grave. Besides, these things don't seem like they're going anywhere anytime soon. If they haven't tried to bust out of the facility yet, they probably won't be doing it in the next couple of hours."

"If I could interrupt…" Stitch proposed, looking down at his auspex once more. "Wouldn't it be simpler to find a survivor and have them open the door for us?"

"_Yes _it would be easier." Rein said, sighing in annoyance. "But in case you haven't noticed, everyone here looks to be suffering from a rather severe case of violent death."

"Not everyone…" He replied, still turning his gaze to the device on his wrist. Rein was about to demand he explain just what in the Emperor's divine name he was getting at when it hit him.

"You're kidding."

He could practically hear the smug smile that would have split the convict's features had it not been for his rebreather. Stitch loved his toys, and he was never happier than when they worked.

"Two heat signatures." He said, speaking as though it was only a minor note with no real significance. "About a hundred fifty yards down the hall that our unwashed friend is watching so intently."

Fang grit his teeth at the underhanded title, but remained fixed in his position. Rein couldn't help but feel weary at the thought of the fight he'd need to break up after this was over.

"Just hold on a second." He began, fixing Stitch with a serious gaze. "First of all, there's no guarantee that those signatures are anyone friendly now is there?"

The man simply shrugged.

"Maybe they're survivors and maybe they're more of the mutants. Either way, wouldn't it be better to investigate? Even if they are Diclonius, it will give us the opportunity to capture a couple of them and present them to Severus. He'll likely be more forgiving of the delay if he has something to examine in the meantime."

Rein nodded grudgingly, accepting his point. They likely wouldn't get a much better situation in which to capture a pair of the creatures. If they knew where to find the Diclonius, they had an advantage.

"That may be true, but how do we know your auspex isn't just acting up again?" He questioned. Stitch looked aghast at the mere suggestion that his tools could be wrong.

"Are you implying that it may be mistaken in its readings?" He demanded, glaring indignantly. "Do you have so little faith in my methods that you think it could be wrong in such a simple situation?"

"The fact that you need to eat everything through a straw should tell you how highly I value that thing's guidance."

That shut him up. At least for the moment. The incident on Seronious was still a sore spot on Stitch's pride.

"There was interference. The planet was smothered in all kinds of unnatural energies." He defended, doing his best to retain some semblance of dignity. "And I still maintain that those greenskin vehicles were hidden by some manner of sorcery…"

Rein answered with a long stare born of repetition. They'd had this discussion dozens of times in the past.

"…Regardless, it's still better to take this opportunity." Stitch went on. "We won't waste more than ten minutes if it's a false alarm, and if it isn't we'll have something to show for this beyond the corpse of our comrade."

"I don't care what we do so long as we do _something _soon." Fang interjected. "Standing around here is just getting on my nerves."

Raising his hand to silence the group, Rein stepped forwards.

"We'll check to see if you're actually picking someone up." He conceded, nodding towards the auspex. "But don't let your guards down. Just because it's picking up two people doesn't mean it's picking up everyone."

He didn't bother giving the order to fall in line. They all knew the drill at this point. He took the lead, with Stitch standing nearby and directing him towards the occupied room. With one hand raising the scanning device and the other holding his laspistol, the man quietly nodded in the direction they needed to go.

True to his word, Stitch directed them to their destination in only a couple of minutes. It was easy to pick out the room that held the survivors as it was the only one with a door still intact. Unlike the one's they'd passed, this one looked to be of a heavy duty magnetically locked style. The emergency lighting in the mine gave its metallic exterior an almost watery quality as though it were covered in blood.

Rein felt his previous sense of danger start to return as they approached. After watching Choir be torn in half in just such a situation, he wasn't at all comfortable with getting too close to that doorway.

"Keep me covered." He stated, watching the metal blockade for any signs of a disturbance. His muscles were tensed to spring the moment it looked like the door was being torn open.

The steps towards the entrance, he paused. Something was off. In the small gaps between the door and the walls, he could see the barest suggestions of light peeking through. Somehow, the room on the other side still had power.

"_Hello? Is someone out there?"_

The questioning voice stopped him dead in his tracks. His mind instantly processed several thing about it. Male. Older, probably middle-aged. Accented like the upper-class members of the planet rather than those born in the dregs. Likely not a miner.

"Open the door!" Rein barked, raising his weapon. "By the order of the Ordo Hereticus, this facility has been found to house heretical activity. Come out with your hands in the air! Any resistance will be seen as an act against the will of the Inquisition and dealt with accordingly."

"_The Inquisition is here? Oh blessed Terra, finally! I was beginning to wonder if anyone was coming. Hold on just a moment. I'll have the door opened up in a second."_

Whoever was on the other end sounded very unconcerned with the threatening order. Rein eased back slightly, but kept his weapon raised and aimed at the doorway. The prickling sense of danger in the back of his mind had yet to leave. At some point Des had moved up, taking a position in front of Stitch and dropping to a crouch with her own hellgun at the ready. Rein was tempted to check over his shoulder to see if Fang was guarding the rear alone, but resisted.

The sound of mechanical servos whirring to life heralded a wave of light as the door pried itself open. Momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, he fixed his weapon on the blurry outline of a figure standing on the inside. As his eyes became adjusted to the new illumination, he made out the image of a moderately tall spectacled man dressed in a dull colored rough-spun tunic that was common of the people on this planet. Upon seeing the group, the man's face broke out in a relieved grin.

"Oh throne, you have no idea how good it is to see another person." He chuckled, showing no signs of fear despite having three guns trained on him. "I was beginning to think that my career was going to end prematurely thanks to this little breach in security."

"Little breach?" Stitch questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You realize that this entire facility is overrun, and almost all of the staff are either dead or missing don't you? This is more than just a 'little breach'. It's a full blown outbreak."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." The man chided, waving away the statement as though it was a trivial matter. "Yes we've lost some staff, but sacrifices are needed when you're work is as vital as ours. Anyhow, now that you're here there's an important matter I need your help with. You see, I-"

Rein stepped forwards, gripping the front of the man's clothing and pulling him up roughly.

"I don't think you understand what's going on." He said, his voice low and serious. "This place has been rumored to be involved in research of a heretical nature. So far, I'm inclined to believe the rumors after having one of my team dismembered by a horned she-daemon. Let me be painfully clear with you right now. The only reason I haven't shot you on sight is because you might have information that is useful to me. Do you understand that?"

The man gaped at him, blinking owlishly at the unveiled hostility in his tone. His composure wavered for a brief moment, but he quickly recovered. Giving a good-natured chuckle, he raised his hands in a gesture of submission.

"Oh, so _serious._ Yes, I like that. A man who's willing to get the job done." He began, not openly bothered by the fact that Rein had yet to release him. "I apologize if I've come across as overly forceful. I'm told that I need to work on that. And look at me forgetting my manners! I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Joseph Agmundale, senior officer of the Kakuzawa collective. Who might you be?"

This guy was wrong. Everything about him felt off. The more Rein looked at him the less at ease he felt. He was about to open his mouth to demand some answers out of him when a flash of movement from inside the room caught his eye.

It was a surveillance hub, with dozens of screens and panels displaying the different stations of the mine. A smart place to shelter in. All avenues to the room were under observation so he'd have been able to see any threats coming a mile away. Every machine looked to be jury-rigged together in such a fashion as to make even the most emotionless Mechanicus agent break down and weep at the sight. Wires and metal plating were hashed together, extending across the floor in a menagerie of mismatched pieces, only broken up by the odd desk and chair from which the workers could watch their charges.

From behind one of these desks, Rein spotted a glimpse of pink hair as a child's head poked around the corner.

"Contact!"

In one fluid motion he threw Joseph to one side, jumped back to put distance between himself and the Diclonius, and raised his hellgun to aim at her tiny frame, his finger hovering mere centimeters from the trigger. On either side of him, Stitch and Des mirrored his stance.

"Wait! Please, lower your weapons! You have no idea what you're doing!"

In an act that could only be described as inconceivably stupid, Joseph managed to catch himself before falling over and actually ran to put his body in-between the armed weapons and the mutant.

"Have you gone mad!?" He demanded, shooting all of them accusing looks. "Put those guns down this instant! What in the Emperor's name do you think-"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off as Des slammed her fist into his throat. Joseph lurched backwards with a chocked cry of surprise, tumbling to the ground when his legs weren't able to follow him. In an instant, the quiet woman was standing with her foot on his chest and the barrel of her hellgun pointed directly at his forehead.

"A man neck deep in heresy has no right to invoke the Emperor's name." She stated with a veneer of icy calm.

A tense silence descended on the group as they fell into a standoff. Joseph's previous sense of ease was shaken as beads of sweat began to form on his brow. Rein and Stitch kept their aims on the Diclonius girl who'd frozen like a Grot in the searchlights of an oncoming Chimera the moment they'd spotted her.

"Easy Des." Rein cautioned, watching the child for any signs of sudden movement. "We need information, and it's somewhat difficult to interrogate a corpse."

She frowned distastefully, keeping her weapon pointed right between Joseph's eyes. Inching his way forwards, Rein reached out one arm and gave her a meaningful pat on the shoulder.

"_Alive_ Des."

With a barely perceptible sigh, she lifted her foot off the trembling man and stepped back into her earlier position. Joseph got to his feet unsteadily, massaging his neck where he'd been struck. Coughing experimentally, he cringed before shaking his head.

"I have to say, you keep exceptionally violent company mister…?"

"Rein Darius." He answered. "And I don't think you're in much of a position to judge. Would you mind explaining to me why the hell one of those things is hiding here with you?"

Joseph stared in confusion for a moment before he realized who was being referenced. When he did, he chucked once more, a sound which was almost an exact copy of the one he used earlier.

"Is that what this is about?" He asked, brushing himself off. "Oh, you don't need to worry yourself mister Darius. Number Forty Two is entirely harmless, isn't that right? How about you come out and show the nice people?"

His final sentence was directed at the Diclonius as he turned to face her. Instead of obeying the offer, she fervently shook her head and ducked back behind the desk she'd been hiding under. Clucking his tongue, Joseph offered an apologetic smile to the group.

"Sorry about that." He said. "She can be a bit shy around newcomers. We usually have to get her acclimated to any unfamiliar staff members. Hold on a moment. I'll get her out."

Before Rein could even think of protesting, the scientist had made his way over to where she was cowering. The veteran trooper watched in morbid curiosity as he stepped well within the mutant's two meter kill zone, expecting a shower of blood at any moment. Much to his surprise, Joseph was neither torn in half nor ripped limb from limb. He was partially blocked from sight for a moment before reappearing with his hand wrapped around the child's wrist. She gave several half-hearted struggles, but was none the less pulled away from her hiding spot.

"Now then, if we can begin proper introductions like civil people, this is number Forty Two." He began before turning his gaze downwards to the reluctant girl in his grasp. "Forty Two, this is mister Rein Darius. An agent of the Inquisition. You remember your lessons about the Inquisition don't you?"

She nodded timidly, casting her eyes to the floor. Now that she was out in the open, Rein was able to get a better look at her. Just like the first Diclonius they'd encountered, she had unusually colored pink hair, bordering on purple, as well as two horn-like protrusions on the top of her head. She was smaller in size than the other had been, and was actually wearing something. A lab coat, obviously meant for a full grown man rather than a child, had been fixed around her torso. The hem had been cut off at around knee level, and the sleeves had been removed at her wrists.

Just laying eyes on her made the alarm bells in Rein's head increase one thousand fold.

"As you can see mister Darius, Forty Two is an exceptionally well behaved subject." Joseph stated, patting her on the head and causing her to fidget uncomfortably. "You have my condolences if you've run into difficulties with less… amiable… subjects on your way here, but there is no need for violence. I certainly hope you aren't the type of man who holds a grudge. Now please, if we're going to have a discussion I think it would be best to do so inside rather than through a doorway. Don't you?"

Silence returned as Rein weighed the situation in his head. It could easily be a trap. Docile or not, Forty Two was still a Diclonius and he had no reason to doubt her lethality. Perhaps Joseph had struck a bargain with her and his whole demeanor was simply an act. He could feel Stitch and Des giving him questioning looks out of the corner of their eyes.

"Fine." He said at last. "But back up and take her with you. Make sure she keeps her distance."

The scientist complied; ushering Forty Two back into the room until Rein was satisfied. Filing inside, he, Stitch, and Des took up positions near the screens while Fang hit a button on the wall panel and sealed the door behind him. Turning around, the Catachan gave a noise of mild curiosity at the sight. While he'd been able to hear the whole exchange, his focus had been on keeping their backs covered.

Joseph nodded with a smile. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Rein raised his hellgun and casually pointed it at his chest.

"Let me just stop you right there." He said, giving the man a meaningful look. "I'm not in the mood for small talk so here's how this is going to work. I ask you questions. You answer. If I don't like your answers, you get a lasbolt to the chest. Understand?"

Joseph chuckled once again. The noise was starting to wear on Rein's already strained nerves.

"Don't you worry mister Darius, I'd be happy to help in any way I can." He said, tapping Forty Two on the head when she tried to hide behind his legs. The girl mumbled something inaudible before shuffling into a slightly more exposed position.

"First question." Rein began, casting a quick glance over to Stitch. "We haven't been able to open a vox with the outside recently. Thought it was some kind of jammer at first, but my companion's auspex still works. Care to explain that?"

Joseph offered a carefree wave, seemingly unbothered by the question.

"That's simply an old security measure." He explained. "Padro was extremely paranoid about information regarding this facility reaching the outside so he had some manner of techno-wizardry installed to keep transmissions from reaching beyond a certain point. Some Techpriest was mucking around quite some time ago, setting everything up. I'm afraid I don't know the details, but it's meant to block outgoing signals. Everything on the inside of the barrier still works, but it can't reach past a certain point."

Rein frowned, considering the information. No doubt Severus would be very interested to hear that a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus had helped work on this place. Now that the immediate issue of communication was explained…

"Second question. What the Warp damned hell is going on in this place?"

Joseph's face lit up like celebratory lights on Emperor's Day. He wore the kind of ecstatic expression of one who took the utmost pride in their work and never missed a chance to speak about it.

"Something incredible my friend." He said. "Let me ask you something if I may. How familiar are you with the history of this structure and those who built it?"

Rein's eyes narrowed, observing the man suspiciously. He was tempted to force the conversation back on topic, but the scientist showed no signs of verbal misdirection or some kind of ill intent.

"I know enough." He stated, adjusting his aim very slightly. "It was constructed by Argentinus Vaserian when he went mad and started spreading the mutant plague. I'm not interested in old history right now though. I want to know what you're doing here at the present."

Joseph nodded sagely, taking in the information with the air of someone who'd been expecting just such an answer.

"Ah Argentinus. Mad, certainly, but his goals were nobler than most give him credit for." He remarked wistfully.

"Noble huh?" Fang scoffed. "Keep talking like that in front of Cartwright and see what happens. Better yet, keep talking like that in front of _me_ and see what happens."

The man gave him a mildly annoyed glance for the interruption.

"True, his methods went beyond the boundaries that all good citizens of the Imperium should abide." He said. "But I think with time, many people will be able to agree that the ends justified the means. The ends of course, being this precious little thing."

Joseph placed his hand on the back of Forty Two's head and pressed her forwards, causing the others in the room to flinch back. The girl began nervously picking at the frayed edge of her makeshift dress as all eyes turned towards her.

"Her?" Rein questioned, taking an extra step away from the girl just to be safe.

"Not her specifically, but rather the Diclonius as a whole." Joseph explained. "What would you say if I told you that these girls are not simply the result of some exotic form of mutation? What if I told you that they, in fact, originated from holy Terra itself?"

That got their attention. All eyes turned to the scientist, drilling into his face for even the slightest sign of deceit. Stitch raised a hand to his rebreather and gave the device a contemplative stroke as the weight of the information set in.

"I'd say you're full of shit." Fang stated bluntly. The reaction was apparently exactly what he'd expected, causing him to chuckle once more.

"I can hardly begrudge you your disbelief." He said, placing a hand to his forehead. "In truth, I also didn't believe it at first. It wasn't until I witnessed the workings of the man Kakuzawa, for whom our collective is named after, that I saw the truth. The Diclonius existed on our blessed home world countless centuries ago, inhabiting a place that was known at the time as Japan. They were few in number, but one of their people possessed the power to ravage the entire planet."

His eyes became distant as though recalling something vivid and incredibly important to him.

"Before humanity had reached into the stars and started spreading our righteous influence, there was a Diclonius girl who went by the name of Lucy. She was the herald for a species so close to our own that the two are almost indistinguishable. Though she and the original Diclonius are long dead, we've managed to find remains that held enough of their genetic information to replicate them. The 'mutant plague' as you call it was Argentinus trying to spread a new generation of these creatures using unborn infants as molds for Diclonius genetics."

"What's more, these are no simple mutant. They are practically human in almost every way. The only difference between us and a true Diclonius are the horns protruding from their heads, and an enlarged pineal gland in the frontal lobe of the brain. Though perhaps their most startling features would be the invisible limbs known as vectors."

He paused in his explanation to gauge the reactions of his listeners. For the most part, the four stood with expressions ranging from skepticism to open hostility in the case of Des.

"Invisible limbs?" Rein questioned, not entirely sure how to interpret the information. "You're telling me they have some kind of natural camouflage?"

Joseph pursed his lips, raising a finger to his mouth as he pondered the best way to explain.

"Calling them invisible limbs may not have been the best description." He said at last. "Rather, they seem to act like mental projections in the shape of hands. They extend outwards from the host's body and can move at lightning speeds. They're even capable of breaking down targets at a molecular level, making them an all but unblockable weapon."

"That sounds an awful lot like psychic powers to me." Fang remarked, turning to Rein. "Told you they were Psykers."

"Oh, no, no, no!" Joseph interjected, rapidly waving a finger like some kind of school teacher. "Psykers they most certainly are not! That's one of the glorious things about them. They can wield these incredible powers with no threat of being possessed by daemons or spreading the taint of the Warp. Think of the possibilities! A group of Diclonius could all but singlehandedly stop and Ork charge. Those trained well enough could make for peerless duelists, able to find and neutralize any threat ranging from Chaos Lords to Eldar Farseers. No armor can stop them, and no sorcery can turn away their vectors. The only limiting factor is their range."

"The only limiting factor?" Rein asked, sensing a catch. The question caused Joseph to pause his enthusiastic description.

"Well… there is one _slight_ issue that comes with their incredible powers." He admitted hesitantly. "For reasons we don't entirely understand it would seem that Diclonius are genetically predisposed towards… excessively violent behavior that is entirely directed at humans."

"You're saying they're hardwired to kill people." Stitch finished dryly. Nobody was fooled by the fanciful decorations Joseph had put on the explanation.

"To put it simply… Yes." He confessed. "They show an almost physical need to kill humans. We have yet to figure out why, but they don't seem to show the same kind of aggression towards other species such as xenos or animals. Still, it is merely a temporary setback. Take Forty Two for example!"

He gave the quiet girl a solid pat on the back, nearly toppling her over and causing her to let out a startled noise at the unexpected contact.

"She's the model of an ideal subject. After extensive gene and behavioral therapy, she shows no signs of blatant hostility towards humans, and no sympathy or hesitation when ordered to dismantle xenos. Isn't that right my dear?"

Silence filled the room for several moments before she realized that he actually expected a response.

"Yes doctor Agmundale sir…" She muttered obediently. "We all need to strive to do the Emperor's work…" The phrase sounded heavily rehearsed. No doubt it was something she had to recite regularly.

Stitch raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"So you have one individual who knows better than to kill humans." He said blandly. "That doesn't mean much when you're standing waist deep in the blood spilled by others like her."

"The other girls just need to be better adjusted is all." Joseph assured. "Once everything is under control again, we'll be able to ensure that they abide by the Imperial Creed just as any good soul should."

"The other girls?" Rein interjected. "What happened to the males? Are they too unstable or something?"

"Oh, there are no males." The scientist answered offhandedly, earning him several questioning glances. "You see, these girls aren't true Diclonius. They're what's referred to as Silpelits. Essentially, they're clones with minor genetic differences from the true Diclonius who created them. In this case, clones of Lucy whose genetic code they're all based off of. As an added bonus, Silpelits age at twice the rate of a normal human. Only half the time wasted on an unproductive childhood."

"If they're all female how the hell are they supposed to be any good in the long term?" Fang interrogated. "I doubt you're gonna find many worlds willing to let you infect the population with that plague just to get a couple new psychopathic little girls."

Joseph's expression grew somewhat guarded at that. His mouth thinned into a fine line and he seemed almost embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head with one hand.

"Well… that's not entirely a problem." He said, carefully weighing his words. "You see… the plague created by Argentinus was only ever successful in creating _one_ Diclonius."

The sense of danger in the back of Rein's mind, having dulled into a background sensation at that point, rocketed back to the forefront of his consciousness.

"Then where did the others come from?" He demanded, already knowing he wouldn't like the answer.

"…We don't know…"

For a long while, the only noise in the room was the sound of Forty Two shuffling her feet and the odd crackle from the monitors.

"You. Don't. Know?" Rein repeated, putting dangerous emphasis on each syllable. Joseph gave a shaky shrug in response.

"From what we've been able to see, they appear to be spreading without any help from us." He said. "We've taken every possible safety protocol into account. Regular contamination drills, all kinds of blood tests and other… intrusive… means of looking for infected individuals, everything you can think of. None of it seems to help. More and more Diclonius are being born on Cyrridus Delta, though almost entirely centralized around this facility. No doubt you can understand the difficult position this has put us in. Needing to round up strays, silence witnesses, file all the necessary paperwork and keep thins under wraps… It's been quite the chore."

Rein was about half a second from pulling the trigger of his hellgun and reducing the infuriating scientist to a quivering corpse. It was only the possible aid the man could provide that saved his life. While he had no wife or significant other to speak of at the moment, he certainly didn't want to need to worry about hearing that his firstborn child had horns sprouting from her head. When this was over, he was getting every detoxification treatment he could find. He didn't care if it involved servitors scrubbing half his skin off with acidic liquids, he'd take it.

"I think that's enough questions for right now." He growled, clenching his teeth as he fought down his need to open fire. "We've been sent here to contain the threat and capture any Diclonius we can. We need to get down to the security terminal through the main lift, but it needs some kind of code word or something to get through. Apparently, it doesn't recognize the authority of the Inquisition. I assume you know the code?"

He half hoped he didn't know. That would take away one of the only things keeping him alive.

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" Joseph exclaimed, brightening up immediately. "I'd be happy to help you along. I know just about every code and security protocol in this place by heart."

Damn.

"Is there actually anything down there that can stop these creatures?" Stitch questioned. "I don't want to be travelling down there for nothing."

"Of course there is!" He replied. "It's somewhat complicated, so I'll explain the details on the way, but there is a system in place that will fill the facility with gas and render the Diclonius harmless without causing fatal injury."

"We're going to drug them?" Des asked, speaking for the first time since the conversation had started.

"Something like that. As I said, I'll explain on the way."

Turning sharply on his heel, Joseph clapped his hands together in a gesture of eagerness.

"Let's get going shall we?" He offered. "Time's wasting and we have places to be. I'll of course rely on you strapping individuals for protection seeing as we'll likely encounter a fair number of unrestrained subjects in the lower levels. But that shouldn't be a problem for true Imperials such as yourselves."

He walked directly to the door, slapping the panel on the way there and opening the way without breaking stride. Stitch, Des, and Fang filed out behind him, though in a significantly more professional fashion as they watched the hallway for any signs of danger. Rein was about to follow when something unusual stopped him in his tracks.

For the barest fraction of a second, he could swear he saw the air distort as though something was moving through it. He didn't get a chance to ponder the strange occurrence as, without warning, all sensation halted. It was like someone had thrown the off switch in his mind, rendering him unable to process any kind of outside information.

Standing there, unable to move or even think, he became distantly aware of something that felt like icy fingers reaching into his chest. They flowed through his body like water, brushing against his ribs and internal organs. He should have been afraid, but he was incapable of interpreting the sensation of fear.

All at once, feeling slammed back into his mind and the ethereal touch vanished. Shaking his head, Rein quickly looked around for any sign of the disturbance. Nothing had changed except…

It was then that he spotted Forty Two. The girl was looking up at him, wide eyed and filled with innocent curiosity. He didn't notice her expression however. What he noticed was that she was standing far too close.

"Back up!" He barked sharply, raising his weapon. She jumped with a squeak of fright, frantically backpedalling until she met the desk she'd hidden behind earlier. For several moments, he simply stood there pointing his gun at the trembling child.

With a loud sigh, Rein slowly lowered his weapon.

"Don't do that." He ordered, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. Even if she looked tame enough, he wasn't about to take chances. "Keep your distance and we won't have a problem. All right?"

She nodded quickly, stammering out a quick apology before rushing through the door after the others. He watched her go, rubbing his temple.

This place was really getting to him wasn't it? Phantom sensations could never mean anything good. Once this was over, he'd get a stiff drink at the local bar. He didn't even care that most of the alcohol on this planet tasted like piss, anything that could get him drunk would do.

Shaking his head and pushing the memory of the cold sensation out of his mind, Rein stepped through the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**This took a lot longer than I'd first anticipated, but it was fun to write. Without further delay, the last chapter of Evolution.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Elfen Lied **

* * *

The walk to the lift was a tense affair. Everyone was on edge with the exception of Joseph who held true to his previous image of unnatural cheer. Rein kept one ear on constant alert for any sounds of movement while the other was keyed in to pick up any alerts from Stitch. He still didn't trust the man or his auspex, but if he'd been right once he might be right again. If nothing else, the possibility was there.

Before too long, the familiar sight of reinforced metal blockades greeted them. Ceramite fortified to absurd degrees stood between them and their goal.

"All right, Joseph up front." Rein ordered, prodding the man in the small of his back with his hellgun. "Get that thing open, and be quick about it. We don't have all day to waste standing around."

"Not a problem my good man." He assured, stepping up to the barricade confidently. He brushed by Forty Two on his way there, not seeming to notice as the girl stumbled to get out of his way. "I'll have it open in a jiffy."

Fang reached forwards, catching the Diclonius before she fell over. Rein tensed in preparation to bring his weapon up at the sight, but no spray of blood erupted from the Catachan's body. Forty Two took a moment to rebalance herself before shying away from the gruff jungle warrior with a murmur of thanks. Fang opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly stopped as his face took on a distant expression. It only lasted for a brief second, passing as he shook his head, coughing into the back of his hand.

"Anyone else feel that?" He asked, looking over his shoulder as though expecting to see something in the empty hallway.

"Feel what?" Stitch demanded, tapping the side of his arm impatiently. "Are you experiencing heart palpitations? Has your nerve finally broken?"

Fang glared at him, his free hand unconsciously edging towards the massive knife he kept at his belt at all times. Before a friendly fire incident could take place, Rein stepped between the two for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"That's enough kiddies." He stated sternly. "Our job isn't to pick fights with each other. If you're trigger fingers are getting itchy, I'm sure you'll have something to shoot at once we get down farther into the facility."

"Wasn't our goal to take them alive?" Stitch questioned, his own hand lightly gripping his laspistol.

"As many as we can." Rein stated. "But we need to be alive to do that."

The sound of a polite cough drew their attention back to Joseph who was standing next to the lift with one hand placed on the speaker.

"I hate to be a bother, but if I could bother you for a moment of silence…?" He asked, nodding down at the panel. "If you're all speaking, it'll be far more difficult for the machine to pick my voice out of the din."

A grudging quiet descended as both Fang and Stitch took up positions on either side of the door. When he was satisfied that he wasn't about to be interrupted, Joseph turned back to the task at hand and activated the panel. After a brief moment, a familiar synthesized voice filled the hallway.

_*ACCESS TO T-T-TRANSPORT LIFT RESTRIC-C-CTED. SECURITY LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT. P-P-PLEASE PROVIDE PROPER AUTHORIZ-Z-ZATION TO PROCEED.*_

Clearing his throat, the scientist straightened up and addressed the damaged machine.

"Joseph Agmundale." He said, speaking with a clear voice. "Authorization code Lilium. I require transportation to sub-level one hundred and fifty effective immediately."

The whine of metal parts grinding together followed almost immediately. Very slowly, the massive bulkhead pried itself apart to allow them entrance.

_*WELCOM [JOSEPH AGMUNDALE] P-P-PASSAG-G-GE TO SUB-LEVEL-L ONE HUNDRED FIFTY PROVIDED. PLEASE HAVE A P-P-PRODUCTIVE DAY.*_

With a satisfied smile, Joseph brushed his hands together and gestured for the others to follow him into the opening. Des was first to follow, slipping through the gap as easily as an assassin's blade through an unsuspecting fool's ribcage. Stitch came next, followed at a distance by Fang. Forty Two filed in behind them, careful to keep a respectful distance. By the time Rein stepped inside, the bulkheads had opened entirely.

It wasn't the biggest lift he'd seen, but neither was it the smallest. The inside was spacious enough to accommodate three Leman Russ battle tanks side by side and still have enough room left over for a platoon of guardsmen to stretch their legs. No doubt it was used to bring down mining equipment or large numbers of workers. Even with secret mutant experiments going on, this place was still the largest mine within a thousand standard miles.

The metal flooring beneath their feet gave a lurch as the countless lengths of cable began to lower them into the bowels of the mountain. Rein took a steadying breath, gripping his hellgun tightly as the speed began to pick up.

"So." He began, turning to Joseph. "What can we expect to find down there? I want to know just how many mutants are between us and the security station as well as what the end plan is once we get there."

The man nodded, looking as though he'd been anticipating the question.

"Well, it's hard to say for sure." He said, his eyes growing distant as he pondered his answer. "From the last count, there should be at least two to three thousand Diclonius housed inside the facility in the lower levels."

The number sent a ripple of unease through the group. They might be trained elites, but they weren't Space Marines.

"You're housing an army." Des said quietly, giving him a meaningful stare. "It is little wonder that so many have died."

"Well it isn't like we can just let them run free on the outside." Joseph replied with a shrug. "We've killed a large number of those that we had no room for, but our ultimate goal was never to wipe them out. Anyway, given that at least some of them would have been killed by the retaliatory attack from the guards, I'd say that there will likely be around eighteen hundred at most still alive. That is of course, a generous estimate assuming they sustained minimal casualties."

"That's still a hell of a lot more than we can handle." Fang growled. "We're not exactly equipped for a full blown exterminatus here."

"Now don't worry, I'm sure we shouldn't run into too many." The man assured. "That number will be scattered throughout the whole mine. Many did flee deeper inside when the guards tried to barricade the exits, but they will likely have spread out again now that most of the soldiers are dead. Besides, we have Forty Two here to keep watch."

Rein tore his eyes away from the passing markings on the walls to give Joseph a skeptical glance.

"And what exactly is she going to help with?" He questioned. "I wouldn't mind having those vector things on our side, but she's not what I would call prime 'look out' material."

"Oh, I forgot you people haven't spent time studying the Diclonius like I have." Joseph chuckled, shaking his head. "You see, they share some kind of a link with others of their species. Forty Two will be able to sense other Diclonius and warn us before they show themselves. It's quite fascinating really… Some of my colleagues likened it to a Tyranid synapse web, though clearly it is far more limited in-"

"Now isn't the time for storytelling." Rein interrupted, cutting him off midsentence. "At the moment, I don't care how it works. If she can act as an alarm system, that's a great aid. Now, what exactly is the plan on stopping the others?"

A brief shudder ran through the lift, causing the occupants to stagger momentarily. The shadows danced along the walls like some kind of unnatural cultists as the dim light of the vast chasm they traveled down cast their predatory gaze on the descending humans. When the tremor passed, the group cast wary glances around the metal cage they were stuck inside of.

"Well, that didn't sound pleasant." Joseph commented, smoothing out his tunic with a nervous gesture. "Anyway, to answer your question, once we get down to the security terminal we I'll activate the emergency outbreak protocol. All levels of the facility will be flooded with gas and the Diclonius will be rendered harmless."

"Which will leave us over a thousand sleeping mutants to collect." Stitch finished with a weary sigh. "This is going to be a very long day isn't it?"

"Oh, they won't be sleeping." Joseph added, drawing the attention of everyone else. "You see, Diclonius are still capable of lashing out with their vectors while unconscious. It's mainly an issue when they're first developing them, but it is still possible in later maturity. Instead, the gas is designed to deliver a potent toxin into the bloodstream of those who breathe it in. It will cause their nerve endings to continuously fire, instilling artificial pain responses over long periods of time."

Fang sighed, shaking his head.

"Care to say that again so that some of us can understand?" He demanded.

"He said the gas will cause them to suffer." Stitch stated, giving him an annoyed glance. "Though I'm sure the sight of them writhing in pain would be an entertaining use of time, how is that better than knocking them out? At least they wouldn't be able to aim their weaponry then."

"It's quite simple really." Joseph explained. "As I said earlier, vectors are essentially projections of a Diclonius's mind. This means that they require a certain degree of concentration to be able to maintain them. The easiest way to disrupt this concentration is with pain stimuli, though there are experimental treatments being proposed that would involve numbing the pineal gland."

"So they can't use their vectors while in pain?" Rein asked. "That sounds like a pretty big drawback for your mutant super soldiers."

"Well, it wouldn't be entirely true to say they _can't _use them." Joseph added. "It just makes it absurdly difficult. Needless to say, there have already been some proposals for a program to be implemented that would allow certain exceptionally loyal Diclonii to train their concentration beyond-"

Whatever he was about to say next was drowned out by a terrible screeching sound. The floor of the lift shook violently as the sound of tearing cables filled the air. Rein dropped down, bracing himself with his free hand.

"What the hell is that!?" He demanded, shouting to be heard over the cacophonous din. Stitch yelled something in response, but his voice wasn't able to overcome the noise of snapping metal. All at once, gravity took a hold of the elevator and pulled it inexorably downwards.

Rein felt the flooring beneath him start to pull away from his feet. Reacting on pure adrenaline-fueled instinct, he leapt to the wall of the lift and grabbed onto the bar attached to it. Turning his head, he was greeted by the sight of chaos as everyone else was flung from their positions by the falling metal box.

The back wall, grinding against the outside guiding beams, began to tear away from the rest of the elevator. Rein tightened his grip as he felt wind whip past his face, his eyes being drawn to the peril another member of his group was in.

Forty Two, having resigned herself to one of the back corners during the ride, was precariously close to the edge as the metal plating of the far wall finally ripped itself free with a horrible metallic scream. The sudden rush of air picked her tiny frame up off her feet and drew her towards the newly made opening. Her own cry of terror was barely audible over the howl of the tormented machinery.

Rein didn't pause to think. A lifetime of military training kicked in, spurring him to release his grip on the bar and throw himself towards the child. Six rapid steps brought him forwards, and his arm shot out, latching his fingers around her wrist in an iron-hard grip. Pivoting in place, he pulled Forty Two away from the gaping opening and lurched back towards the stability of the metal bar.

He never made it that far.

Feeling his warning sense flare up once again, Rein pulled the Diclonius girl tight to his chest and braced himself. Without warning, part of the lift caught on the shaft it was falling through, drastically slowing its breakneck descent and slamming the occupants into the ground. Rein was smashed against the metal flooring, putting himself in between the unforgiving substance and the child who was clinging to him.

Waves of pain shot through his body as the freefalling elevator ground to a halt against the metal beams. When at last it stopped moving, all the breath in his body rushed out in a single tortured gasp. Greedily drawing in new air to replace it, he struggled into a sitting position, Forty Two still trembling in his grip.

"Status!" He ordered, shaking off the disorientating effects of the ride. "Is everyone still alive?"

The shuffling of slow moving bodies, and the soft groan of straining metal were the only answers he received. Fang was the first to rise back up to his feet, spitting out a bloody tooth with a grimace as he did so.

Stitch and Joseph came next. The former murderer had a small trail of blood running down his forehead, but looked to be none the worse for wear. The scientist was not as lucky, sporting a sizable bruise growing across the left side of his head and looking around with a very dazed expression.

Des was the last to recover, and it didn't take long to see why. Rein instinctively cringed slightly when he spotted the state her right arm was in. The limb was bent about forty five degrees in the wrong direction. The cloth of her flak armor was starting to turn crimson around her elbow.

"Fething hell. Des? Can you hear me?" Rein questioned, absently setting down Forty Two and hobbling his way over to the woman.

She didn't reply. Though the broken arm must have hurt terribly, she showed no sign of being in pain other than a slight flush of her features. As he made his way over, she forced herself into a sitting position. She looked down at her dangling appendage with a frown as though noticing the damage for the first time.

"Nasty injury." Stitch remarked, mopping up the trail of red liquid running down past his eyes. "Just hold still. I'm sure I can find something to make a splint out of in due time."

A light sigh escaped the woman's lips. Instead of acknowledge the offer of aid, she reached over with her undamaged arm to grasp the wounded lim. Rein realized what she was about to do a moment before it happened, but wasn't quite able to brace himself for the display.

With a sickening crack, Des wrenched the misaligned arm back into place, casing the others to flinch and turning Joseph's cheeks a sickly pale color. Flexing her fingers experimentally, she rose back up to her feet as though nothing were wrong and fixed her grip on her hellgun.

She looked expectantly to Rein who simply shook his head in defeat.

"Is your arm going to hold out?" He asked, getting straight to the point.

"It will endure." She replied calmly. "I think we'd best be moving now though. The lift may be held up for the moment, but there is no telling when it will break loose."

He couldn't argue with that. Shouldering his weapon, he gestured for Stitch and Fang to move up with him towards the door.

"Help me get it open." He ordered. "I don't know what floor we're on right now, but it can't be too far judging by how fast we were falling."

They quickly nodded, taking up positions on either side of the blockade. Rein hit the switch to open it and the two of them slipped their hands into the slight gap, pulling with all their might to hasten the process. Even with the added muscle, the doors parted with painfully slow movements, seeming to take an eternity before a gap wide enough to pass through was made.

The group moved to the opening, exiting into a precarious elevator shaft. The lift had been halted midway between two floors. The only footing around was the precariously positioned guiding beams, none of which were designed to be walked on by normal humans.

"Which way are we going?" Rein demanded, turning to Joseph who was squinting upwards to examine the numbers etched into the doorway above them. "Up or down?"

"Up." He replied with a nervous smile. "That door is to floor one hundred and sixty two. It's quite fortunate we stopped when we did. This facility only has one hundred and sixty five floors. Had we kept falling even a little longer…"

Rein closed his eyes, resisting the urge to throw the talkative man into the chasm beneath them. He didn't need the added stress of knowing how close they'd all come to being pancaked in the belly of a mountain.

"Looks like we're climbing then." He stated matter-of-factly. His comment earned him an uneasy glance from both the scientist and the Diclonius who was clinging to the beam beneath her like some kind of pink-haired barnacle.

"Climbing?" Joseph parroted. "I'm afraid I'm not very well suited to climbing. I don't think I've ever learned the proper way to go about it. Isn't there some other way we could go about this?"

"No." Rein replied with crushing certainty. "So you'd better learn fast. It'd be a shame if you were to fall."

* * *

The ascent wasn't as difficult as Rein had feared it would be. The meshwork of metal crossbeams and supports made it so that even Des, using only one arm, was able to maneuver comfortably upwards. Despite his misgivings, even Joseph was starting to act more confidently as they neared their goal.

The only one couldn't was number Forty Two. The girl had stubbornly refused to budge against all coercion attempts and threats. It wasn't until Rein had lost all patience and, ignoring his better judgment, actively picked her up that she released her death grip on the metal beam, quickly flinging her arms around his shoulders instead. It was an uncomfortable experience, not the least for knowing she could cut him apart at any moment, but he pushed upwards regardless.

When they finally reached floor one hundred and fifty, and managed to pry open the blocking door with help from one of Stitch's numerous mechanical abominations, they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

"No time to rest." Rein said, sending a meaningful glance towards Joseph. "We're behind schedule, and now we know it isn't just mutants we're up against."

"Excuse me?" The scientist asked, blinking in confusion. "What do you mean? Who else could be between us and the security terminal down here?"

"Use your damned head." He replied, annoyed that the question even needed to be asked. "I might have been willing to believe that those things managed to break out on their own, but they sure as hell didn't sabotage the lift. It would be one of their only means of escape. It was an attempt to keep people out. That means someone else had to do it, and I'm willing to bet that they're the reason all this is happening in the first place."

"You mean… you think there are saboteurs in the mine?" Joseph questioned, dumbstruck. "But who? Who could possibly gain access to the necessary… unless…"

Realization dawned slowly, dropping his expression into s serious frown.

"You think that this was done by people on the inside?"

"I think that's a real fething likely possibility." Rein confirmed. "Guns up, eyes open, assume hostile until proven otherwise. We're too deep in to take risks, so if they're armed and don't surrender immediately, put them down. That goes for both mutants and other humans."

The order was met with an expectant silence as his companions readied their weapons. Des had to hold her hellgun offhanded, bracing her injured arm underneath it to stabilize the firearm. Rein didn't worry about her accuracy. He'd seen enough of her targets to know that she was perfectly capable of firing with the wrong arm.

"Very well, if that's what it takes." Joseph said, looking more bothered than concerned with the idea of an internal rebellion. "Just try not to kill _everyone_. This place will need workers once everything has blown over, and it takes an age to train new ones."

"After this is done I'll do everything in my power to ensure this place is burned to ashes…" Rein grumbled, too low to be heard. He closed his eyes and took several calming breaths, blocking out the scientist's presence. When they opened back up again, he was back in his battle ready state.

Giving a wave of his hand, he gestured for the others to fall in behind him. They complied without pause, leaving Joseph and Forty Two to bring up the rear. Rein only spared the two a passing glance, but he could have sworn that the Diclonius girl was observing him.

The march began at an unspoken signal. He was once again straining every sense to detect any signs of danger. The soft tapping of feet on the hard flooring echoed in his ears, forming the backdrop to a near silent symphony of-

"Take a left up here."

It took an inhuman amount of effort to keep from swinging around and discharging his hellgun into Joseph's chest. Shooting a glare over his shoulder, he turned to the man who remained oblivious to the mortal peril he'd put himself in.

"Quiet!" Rein snapped, keeping his voice low. "No talking unless I say it's safe to. We're in the middle of a mission,"

He frowned as though putting consideration to the statement. As he was about to open his mouth to reply, Stitch slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the indignant cry of surprise before turning to Rein and tapping his auspex.

The device was picking up life signs.

Rein suppressed a sigh. If the irritating thing worked twice in one day, Stitch would no doubt be praising it for the next month and a half. Rolling his eyes, he signaled for Stitch to take the lead. The man accepted with gusto, cradling his laspistol in one hand with the enthusiasm of a child playing with his favorite toy.

The device led them left, the same direction Joseph had advised. Stitch stayed slightly ahead of the group, signing for those behind him to slow down as they approached an intersection. For several seconds his eyes were glued to the device on his wrist. Once he was satisfied with the readings, he carefully peered around the corner leading to the right. He stood perfectly still before withdrawing as slowly as he'd approached. Tapping Rein lightly on the shoulder, he leaned in close.

"Contact up ahead." He whispered, his rebreather giving his voice a crackling quality that made his words hard to distinguish. "One. Dressed like a miner. Heavy stubber emplacement. Guarding a door. Looks like he's been awake at his post for a while. Twitchy reflexes. Eyes darting back and forth. Might be a surviving guard, or one of our instigators."

Rein nodded. Showing themselves was a risk, but simply gunning the man down would be counterproductive if he was friendly. Making his way forwards, he crept up to the intersection and held his finger on the trigger of his weapon. A quick look confirmed Stitch's assessment. There was a single guard standing at the far end of the hallway, manning a heavy stubber which had been set up behind a makeshift barrier of tables and work equipment.

"In the name of the Imperial Inquisition! Identify yourself!" He shouted suddenly, keeping himself hidden behind the bend. The sudden noise caused the man to visibly jump, his own hands tightening around the handles of the massive gun as he looked frantically around.

"Who said that!?" He demanded, his voice cracking with panic. "Who's there!? Show yourself!"

It was a risk to show himself, but Rein knew that a visible figure would help to ease things over more quickly. Right now, time was of the essence. He didn't want to stay in one place for too long and let roaming mutants find them. With a short half-step, he turned so that he was visible, but still partially hidden by the curve in the hall.

"My name is Rein Darius." He stated flatly, keeping his eyes trained on the man's hands which her dangerously close to the stubber's trigger. "By the order of Inquisitor Cartwright, this facility and everyone in it is under suspicion of heresy. Lay down your weapon now, or I'll be forced to treat you as an enemy of the Imperium."

The sleep deprived man took a moment to process the information.

"You're with the Inquisition?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly in what could be interpreted as unease.

"That's right." Rein replied, taking another step out into the open. It was a calculated risk, but he hadn't opened fire yet. "The mine has been put under suspicion. All personnel still alive are to submit to the authority of the Ordo Hereticus."

Shuddering slightly, the man took another moment to mule over the implications of the sentence.

"Prove it." He said at last. "Anyone can call themselves an Inquisitor, but you don't look like one to me. How do I know you're not lying?"

Instead of answering, Rein reached into his collar and withdrew the necklace that he always wore around his neck. He pulled up a short length of silver chain that ended in one of the most recognizable symbols in the Imperium. The Aquila.

"I'm no Inquisitor." He said calmly, taking note of the way the man's mouth dropped open and sweat began to form on his brow. "But I work for one. Believe me when I say you don't want to have him come down here. Now step away from your weapon."

An internal debate played across the miner's features. He alternated between tightening and loosening his grip on the handle of the heavy stubber until he finally slumped in resignation.

"Can't do that." He said, doing as much as he could to mask any emotion in his voice. "My superiors told me to stay on guard and they're the kind that'll put a shot in the back of my head if I disobey."

Rein lifted his eyebrow a fraction.

"I can't say I like the sound of that." He said, letting a mild undertone of threat coat his words. "What you're doing could be interpreted as uncooperative. You wouldn't want that now would you?"

The man swallowed visibly, but settled for a shrug.

"Sorry but orders are orders. You want to discuss it, feel free to talk with the boss in the back. Me? I'm staying right here."

Rein frowned, staring intently to discern any hidden motives. The guy was run down and looked about dead on his feet, but there was a kind of weary determination in the way he stood at his post. Whether out of loyalty or fear he was unwilling to abandon his position.

"That sounds like a much more productive option." Joseph said, coming around the corner suddenly. He ignored the sharply hissed orders from Stitch telling him to stay back. "I think a conversation with the man in charge should be in order don't you?" He asked, turning towards Rein.

It was all he could do to keep his finger from squeezing the trigger. He was about to snap at him when he noticed a change come over the man standing at the end of the hallway. His danger instinct once again flared into effect.

The guard was staring intensely at Joseph, his face a mask of concentration. After a second, his features spread into recognition. Then anger.

"You're one of them!"

Rein didn't need to think about the implications of the words. He was already in motion by the time the miner had brought his heavy stubber level. A series of deafening bangs reverberated in the enclosed space as a wave of supersonic projectiles were unloaded in his general direction.

Joseph, who had neither realized the threat nor moved from his open position, never stood a chance. High caliber rounds ripped into his torso, painting the wall behind in a gruesome crimson shower of blood, gore, and bone fragments. By the time his shredded body had started to fall, Rein rolled into a crouch, bringing up his hellgun in a long practiced gesture.

For the span of a single fraction of a breath, the soldier and the miner met gazes. Both knew that only one of them was walking away from this alive.

Rein fired just as the next brutal staccato of the weapon emplacement filled the world once more. His lasbolt, positioned with expert precision, lit up the dim area as it streaked directly towards the man. It hit him in the middle of his throat, reducing what would have been a scream of pain into a choked gurgle. His body toppled over backwards with his head only hanging onto his shoulders by a few strands of charred flesh.

Still in his crouched position, Rein didn't move. He felt no searing pain or the warmth of dripping blood. He hadn't been hit and it was brutally plain as to why. Hovering mere inches in front of him without the aid of any kind of suspension was a massively thick metal plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see where it had been torn from the wall before being used as a shield against the return fire. Heavy dents dotted its surface, telling the story of the rounds that would have ended his life otherwise.

A quick glace over his shoulder was enough to confirm his suspicions. Forty Two, hands outstretched and eyes closed in focus, was standing a short distance behind him. It took a moment, but she eventually opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

"You did that?"

It was more of a statement than a question. There was no one else here that could have torn a chunk of the wall out like that. She nodded in response, letting the block of metal drop to the floor.

"Too big to block…" She offered, speaking as softly as was physically possible.

"Why?"

His question came as a surprise to both her and himself. As far as he could tell, she'd only been following along on Joseph's orders. Yet she had taken the initiative and saved him from what would no doubt have been a messy end.

The scientist hadn't been so lucky. Why hadn't she chosen to aid him as well? It was possible that she simply hadn't reacted in time, but it was also possible that she'd let him die. Why would she though? What did he offer that Joseph didn't?

His train of thought was forcibly derailed as the door at the far end of the hall was slammed open.

"What the fuck is going on out here!?" Yelled a heavyset woman, carrying an autogun under one arm. Her features were hard and chiseled from a lifetime of strenuous labor. Taking in the scene of carnage, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Who the fu-"

The rest of her sentence was silenced as the sharp bark of Fang's shotgun boomed into life. Knocked backwards by the force of the slugs pulping her midsection, the woman's body fell to the side revealing a glimpse of the room behind her.

"Storm them!" Rein ordered. It was the strongest course of action they had open. These people had already proved to be hostile. No sense letting them regain their bearings.

The others jumped to obey, crossing the distance and hopping over the poorly organized barricade with ease. Fang was the first to arrive, his heavy boot slamming into the door which had drifted closed, smashing it the wrong way with enough force to shatter the poorly maintained hinges and drop the whole thing to the ground.

Rein was right behind him, taking in the scene before him in the blink of an eye.

Eight people stood in varying degrees of surprise, all armed with a ragtag assortment of weapons. One at the back was obviously the leader, standing tall with an authority of command that only came from years of bossing people around. He didn't even have time to raise his weathered looking lascarbine before Rein's shot blasted through his eye socket and burned a hole in the back of his skull.

What came next was chaos. Shouts and cries turned to howls and screams as the sound of gunfire filled the air. The miners fought with panicked ferocity, but they were clearly not soldiers by trade. Their total lack of cohesion and frequent hesitation proved fatal as the far more experienced troopers ripped through their ranks.

Rein turned to see a man wielding an old, rusted chainsword rush towards Fang. The Catachan saw him coming as well. The clumsy swing was projected miles in advance, giving the jungle fighter more than enough time to duck underneath it and draw his own blade. In one swift motion, he jammed the knife into the overzealous man's chin, gave a sharp twist, and wrenched it free while using his momentum to drop the corpse behind him and raise his shotgun once more.

The whole fight took approximately twelve seconds.

As the echo of the last shot drifted away, Rein paused to take in the aftermath. The defenders were obviously workers. How they got weapons, what they were doing here, and why they were so hostile was a mystery.

A ragged cough told him that the action wasn't over with.

Stitch was the first to the source, kicking aside a discarded chair and pointing his laspistol at the head of a young man whose legs were a bloody mess. Likely the result of a glancing hit from the shotgun.

"Don't… Please… Mercy…" He begged, struggling for breathe as the pain of his injury threatened to steal his consciousness away.

Rein made his way over to the fallen miner in an unhurried fashion, making absolutely certain that the boy could see him coming the whole way. He looked as though he was going to bleed out before long, but Rein knew he had enough time to answer a couple of questions.

"Well, what do we have here?" He commented, his voice taking on a tone of mild curiosity as though he were merely observing the weather. "Mind explaining to me why your pal outside decided to try gunning down an agent of the Inquisition?"

The boy tried to rise into a crouch, but only succeeded in starting a new fit of coughing. It sounded like a piece of shrapnel had found its way into his lungs at some point though it wasn't clear where the entry wound was.

"You… Sick… Bastards…" He spat, curling his lips into a half-snarl. "You're all… going… to die here…"

Rein was less than impressed. At his nod, Stitch stomped heavily on the young man's ankle, causing him to let out a scream which quickly gave way to more hacking and wheezing.

"That's not the answer I was looking for." Rein remarked. "You're buddies killed someone under my protection, and I'm starting to think you had something to do with the outbreak. If you want any semblance of mercy from us, you'd better start talking. If not, we can probably spare a bit of time to ensure you learn your place before departing to be judged by the Emperor."

The boy grimaced, his features pulling together in a hate filled glare. He opened his mouth to spout more words of spite only to stop suddenly, his eyes going wide with fear. Rein followed his gaze to the source of his terror, coming to rest on Forty Two as she tentatively stepped into the room. She'd been left behind in the initial charge.

He was quick to capitalize on the moment.

"Judging by the look on your face, you know what those like her can do, don't you?" Rein asked. "How about this. You tell me what you're friends thought to accomplish with this little uprising, and I'll make sure she doesn't rip you limb from screaming limb."

Forty Two's head perked up as she realized they were talking about her. With her slow, careful movements, she certainly didn't look much like a killer, but she might as well have been a rampaging Dreadnought with the effect her presence was having on their prisoner.

"Keep… Her… Away…" He rasped, trying to inch away only to be blocked by Stitch's leg. "We had… To fight back… After… What they did to us…"

"What they did to you?" Rein repeated, gesturing for Des and Fang to secure the doors. "What would that be? Were the conditions in the mine so intolerable as to warrant this?"

The boy shook his head, an action which caused a flash of pain to shoot across his face, before raising a trembling finger to point towards the Diclonius girl standing behind him.

"They… Used us… To make… More…" He said, speaking with an odd mixture of venom and grief. "Didn't… Even know about them… Until my brother's wife… Gave birth… His daughter… A monster… And _they_ came…. To retrieve her!"

"What did they do exactly?" Rein questioned. The young man merely shook his head again.

"Don't… Know… How… Only… That they did…" Even through the anguish, his voice still managed to convey a deep seated anger. "It was always… Someone's kid… Someone from the mine… Then Aldrich found out the rest… Told us… How to fight back… But she… Got in the way…"

"Who is 'she'?" Rein asked. The boy didn't answer. His head was bowed as though he hadn't heard the question at all.

He lurched forwards without warning, wrapping a hand around Rein's leg and using it to pull himself up a bit higher. He ignored the weapons that swung his way at the action.

"We did… The Emperor's work…" He spat, glaring accusingly up at the soldier. Blood stained his face, giving him the air of a corpse come back from the dead. "Used their monsters… Against them… We… Are not… Heretics… You… Are…"

"I'll consider that a confession." Rein stated, pulling his leg free from the boy's grasp. "Stitch, give him the Emperor's mercy."

He turned away, not bothering to watch as the hive world criminal discharged a shot from his laspistol into the back of the young man's head. His thoughts were already racing to take in the new information as well as the consequences of their recent loss.

"How far do you think we are from the security thing?" Fang asked, wiping drying blood off of his boot.

"Jerimiah said that it wasn't far from where the lift was supposed to drop us off." Rein replied. "If he was correct we should be close. However, I'm not sure if we'll be able to access it without Joseph."

Mentioning the recently deceased scientist was enough to bring a thoughtful silence to the room. They'd been lucky to have him around to open the way through the lift, but if the security terminal needed a code as well…

"I'm sure I can make it work." Stitch interjected. "Let's get to it first. Once we know what we're dealing with, I'll be able to find a way to fix it. Right now, I'm more concerned with our exit strategy."

Rein closed his eyes, preferring not to devote any worry to figuring out how to climb back up a hundred and fifty floors right now. At worst, they'd have to do a, much longer, repeat of their earlier ascent.

"One objective at a time." He reprimanded. "Let's get moving. We need to find that terminal before the other mutants find us."

* * *

As it turns out, it was surprisingly easy to find the security station. It wasn't far from the room where the rebels had been holding out, and the piles of corpses was more than enough to show them they were going the right direction.

The eerily quiet scene was the aftermath of a slaughter. The bodies of over a dozen security guards, and about twice as many miners, were strewn across the hallway. The loyal troops were pockmarked with bullet holes as were several of the rebels. Most of the insurgents however, had been sliced apart with brutal precision, leaving no doubt as to the identity of their killers.

There were no Diclonius corpses. Either they'd taken no losses, or they'd retrieved their dead afterwards. Given the weaponry at the miners' disposal, it seemed unlikely that they'd have been able to fight back against the mutants.

Or perhaps, mutant.

Stepping gingerly between the fallen, Rein swept his gaze back and forth to watch for any signs of movement. It was unlikely that any had survived such disfigurement, but he'd seen stranger things than corpses rising back to their feet.

Through it all, Forty Two stayed close to his ankle. Her presence was as reassuring as it was uncomfortable. By now, he was reasonably certain she had no intention of killing him, but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.

"Too quiet." Des commented, her voice echoing a short distance before falling like a lead balloon in the still, dead air.

Rein nodded in agreement. There were two main kinds of 'too quiet'. The tense, breathless, quiet that came before a massacre, and the hard, solemn, quiet that followed. This felt almost like a mixture of both.

No more words were spoken. At the far end of the passage, a single metal door lay before them. Like the camera system they'd found Joseph hiding in, it appeared to be of a much higher quality than the normal ones found dotting the walls they'd passed. It was heavy, imposing, and shorn almost entirely in two.

"Looks like someone beat us here." Fang remarked, shouldering his shotgun and slinging Choir's hellgun into a ready position. "Who gets to go first?"

"Nobody." Rein replied, gesturing towards Forty Two at the confused look he received. "All right squirt, you're supposed to be able to sense them aren't you? Well how about it? You sense anyone on the other side of that door?"

She jumped, having been zoning out in her own little world. Once she realized what was being asked, she quickly recovered and, after a moment's pause, shook her head.

"No others in there…" She said meekly.

Not for the first time, Rein was struck by the possibility of a trap. Even so, he ignored the threat and stepped forwards. He knew that Diclonius couldn't block lasbolts, so if one was waiting on the other side he'd just have to be quick on the trigger.

Without giving himself time to lose his nerve, he strode forwards and kicked the damaged entryway as hard as he could. The first hit caused the mangled slab of metal to budge only an inch, but the second forced it through much farther. By the fifth kick, the tortured barrier tore itself free with a metallic shriek and collapsed inwards.

Rein's gun was up instantly, knowing that anything on the other side would have had ample opportunity to prepare after hearing his knocking.

There was nothing there. Or at least, nothing living. Three miners lay slashed to pieces just inside the door, their faces frozen in eternal expressions of shock and horror. Apparently they had thought themselves safe behind the construct only to realize their mistake when the Diclonius hunting them had simply cut through both the metal and their bodies in one go.

Kicking aside a severed arm that was in his way, Rein stepped inside. As promised, the security terminal lay just ahead.

A single massive screen was perched atop a veritable forest of buttons, levers, and all manner of mechanical parts whose purpose he couldn't even guess at. On the screen itself, several phrases flashed by faster than he could read, only to suddenly flash and repeat themselves over and over again. He silently prayed to the Emperor that it wasn't broken.

"Looks like you need my aid." Stitch commented, sounding far more eager than Rein would have liked. He was tempted to simply refuse the offer, but there was really no alternative. With a sigh and a shake of the head, he gestured the damaged man forwards.

Hopefully the Omnissiah would wreak his horrible vengeance on Stitch and not him for the desecration.

As the murderer happily tapped away at the keys, the other three took up positions to guard the entrances. Other than the one they'd come in, there was a single side door and a ventilation shaft which could be used as a way inside by a crafty attacker.

Rein focused on the main hallway. His eyes resumed their earlier vigil, washing over the fallen bodies in a regular, monotonous pattern. A minute passed. Then another. Then five, and ten, and fifteen. Slowly, an hour and a half had come and gone as Stitch worked behind his back while he kept a look out. He blinked, fighting back the threat of tedium. Complacency was a killer. He had to remain alert.

Another thirty minutes of uneventful sentry duty passed by. Still, Rein remained on high alert. His training had ensured he could maintain his focus for as long as necessary.

If only it had rendered him immune to the stench of rotting entrails. That was something you never really got used to.

Very suddenly, Forty Two, who'd been napping lightly simply out of boredom, jerked awake with a gasp. Rein realized the significance of the movement just as a figure came into his field of view.

His startled eyes met with a pair of cold, impassive ones.

This was the third Diclonius Rein had seen today, but she was so vastly different from the first two that she was like a whole other creature entirely.

Forty Two and the girl that had killed choir were both children. This girl was fairly well into her womanhood, standing around five and a half feet. She was entirely naked, clothed only in splotches of blood, some drying some fresh. None of it looked to be her own. Fiery hair, almost red in its shade, hung low over two unfeeling eyes. Were it not for the horns protruding from her skull, he might have thought her to be Des's long lost sister.

_The plague created by Argentinus was only ever successful in creating _one_ Diclonius._

Joseph's words came back to him in a rush.

_But she… Got in the way…_

Was this the original mutant? The one created twenty years ago in the mad experiments of a deluded noble? She certainly looked old enough, but if Joseph's information was true, they didn't age like normal people.

She began walking.

"Stop right there!" Rein barked, raising his hellgun into position. "Not one step closer if you want to keep breathing!"

She paused, regarding him with as much curiosity as a cat examining a slightly interesting insect. If she registered the danger, she showed no signs of it. After a second, she resumed her approach.

"I said stop!" He repeated. By now, Fang and Des had joined him at the entrance, lending their own weapons to the line.

She paused again, tilting her head slightly to the side. It took a moment, but he realized that she wasn't looking at any of them. Her eyes were fixed on Forty Two who was trembling like a leaf in a hurricane behind him.

She watched her younger counterpart with an unreadable expression. Another tense moment passed before she spoke.

"Traitor."

The word was rasped by a voice that wasn't often used. There was no accusation or anger in it. No anything really. It was as simple as stating a fact.

She resumed her approach.

"Feth this. Fire!" Rein ordered, deciding he'd had enough of the stalemate. The others didn't need to be told twice. Three beams of light erupted from their weapons, shooting directly for the woman in the hall.

They never reached her.

The walls seemed to rip themselves apart, flinging their broken pieces into the paths of the bolts. Each shot struck the flying debris and sent up a shower of burning rubble and sparks. None hit their initial mark.

"Bring her down!" Rein shouted. More shots were fired, only to have more pieces of the wall rip free and throw themselves into the way of the oncoming projectiles. Streaks of molten light lit up the scene as the soldiers kept up the barrage. The Diclonius continued her walk unhurried, looking as calm and collected as though she were out for an evening stroll.

All too soon, she drew near the entrance to the security hub.

Rein and the other drew back, still firing as they went. He didn't know whether or not Stitch was close to finishing his work, but he couldn't pause to check. He just prayed the man would be done soon and lend his weapon to the fight.

The Diclonius walked inside, her makeshift shields swarming in a blur of movement as they intercepted each shot that was sent her way. It wasn't long before the hellguns exhausted their power packs and the deluge of gunfire ceased.

The whirring noise of metal fragments hurtling through the air slowed to a stop. For a brief span it was as though time had stopped. Rein, Des, and Fang each held their empty weapons pointing at the grim figure before them. Unconsciously, they all knew that trying to reach for a spare power pack to reload would prove fatal. Even spread out as they were, it would only take a couple of steps for her to close into the two meter range.

Rein's eyes met hers in a silent contest of wills. He could practically feel the air rippling around her with the movement of her vectors. The moment stretched on for a miniature eternity.

All at once, it snapped. Feeling the sudden change in atmosphere, he dropped down to one knee, his hand shooting to the spare laspistol at his belt. By the time he had the weapon in his hand, he knew it was too late.

Two of the chunks of debris the Diclonius had been hiding behind rocketed outwards, slamming into both Des and Fang with the force of a charging Astartes. Even as they were both flung against the far wall, she was already leaping towards him. It was too late, but Rein raised his weapon regardless, refusing to simply give in.

As soon as his arm had extended to take aim, it simply fell apart. A crimson spray erupted along the length of his limb, marking the half dozen places it was slashed to pieces. It was as though he'd stuck it inside a massive industrial fan with razor sharp blades.

There was no pain. It felt surreal watching the sections of his appendage simply fall away, their descent marked by messy rivulets of blood that was still trying to pump through them. He didn't get long to ponder the strange sensation. Another chunk of metal swung wide and smashed into him, sending him hurtling across the room. He skidded across the floor, leaving a trail of red behind him.

Now he felt it. Pain, burning, all-consuming, and inescapable surged through his system, wiping away all other sensation. The agony didn't simply encompass the stump that extended halfway to where his elbow should have been. It reached into his core and even danced along the air where his severed limb had rested just moments ago.

"Stop it!"

The sound of Forty Two's cry reminded him of his current predicament. Using the iron willpower that had been drilled into him from constant service in the Emperor's name, he forced his suffering into the back of his mind and regained his focus.

The girl had put herself between his prone form and the approaching Diclonius. She was holding her hands upwards in a pleading gesture.

"You don't need to hurt them!" She said, desperation creeping into her tone. "They're not-"

Her sentence was cut off as she was sent flying, hitting the remaining half of the main door with a shriek and a dull thud.

"Sit down." The Diclonius woman said, sounding more as though she were talking to herself than anyone else. She didn't even bother looking at the fallen girl as she did so. "I'll deal with you later."

Rein pushed himself into a sitting position, grabbing onto the severed end of his arm in an attempt to slow the blood loss. The action sent a wave of dizzy nausea racing through his gut, forcing him to close his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, a pair of pale, gore coated legs stood in front of him.

"You're not getting away." He stated, turning his gaze upwards to look her in the eye. Her face still held the unfeeling expression she'd worn the whole time. "There's hundreds of soldiers waiting outside, and far more in the area, all ready to storm this place at a moment's notice."

If she was worried, or even truly registered what he was saying, she didn't show it. She said nothing as she took another step forwards. Rein kept his focus on her face, determined to go to his grave with as much defiance as the situation would allow. The Emperor would not find him wanting.

Before Rein could process what was happening, a beam of light cut through the air, hitting the Diclonius in the back of her head and sending a spray of flesh and skull fragments through the air. She took a reflexive step forwards, teetering precariously before her body registered its own death. When it did, she slumped forwards and collapsed in a heap, an image of mild surprise playing out over her features.

"Honestly, I turn my back on you for five minutes and this is what happens?" Stitch questioned, holding the recently fired laspistol in his hand. "What would you do without me? Anyway, you might want to search around for a gasmask of some sort. The protocol has been initiated, and I doubt you want to be breathing that stuff in."

Rein processed the turn of events with a mechanical lack of attachment. Stitch had already moved on to start helping up Fang and Des while Forty Two sat cradling the back of her head where she'd hit the wall. Seeing that the situation was as close to under control as it would ever get, his body fell back on a tried and true tradition set down by those in ages long before recorded history.

Falling to one side, Rein blacked out.

* * *

**Planet Gharius Prime. **

**Eight years since the events of Cyrridus Delta.**

The chair let out a wooden groan as Rein leaned back heavily. There was a small mechanical whirring as his bionic arm flexed against his natural one, stretching towards the ceiling. His sparsely furnished office felt much emptier than it had this morning. Likely due to the fact that all the paperwork he'd been working on had been finished and sent off.

Or at least, the ones that hadn't been thrown out the window in sheer frustration.

Working from here was less dangerous, but no less stressful than in the field. In a way, he preferred being on missions beside the Inquisitor and his troops. At least he didn't have to deal with the infuriating world of political wordplay then.

Turning his attention to the last remaining item on his desk, Rein distantly toyed with the thought of leaving it for another time. He knew he couldn't however. It had already been put off for too long and it wouldn't be magically going away.

Picking up the dataslate, he pored over the latest reports of the Diclonius regiment.

Their deployment against the Orks of Cyrridus Omega had proven exceptional. Three months and the greenskin uprising had all but been snuffed out with minimal losses. In fact, most of the hundred and twenty seven deaths that the girls had sustained had been the results of a botched artillery strike called in by an amateur spotter. He had of course, been dealt with in the appropriate manner.

They were now stationed against a fully-fledged Ork WAAAAGH in the Ventius system. It was their first major mission, and from what he'd read it looked like they were passing with flying colors. The xenos had even invented nicknames for them. 'Pinkeez' or 'Butcha Gurlz' depending on how brazen they were feeling.

Under the guidance of Forty Two, who'd been given the unofficial title of commander among the mutants, and the eagle-keen eye of the Commissariat, they were pushing back against the green tide a little at a time. They were even working surprisingly well with the morale officers. Perhaps the unyielding discipline of the Commissars were rubbing off on them.

Regardless of the reason, they were proving to be an excellent weapon.

That did not however, come without cost. Many of the more puritanical sections of the Imperium where appalled at them. Their seemingly shameless nature and unnatural powers had several Inquisitors already calling for their extermination. It was even rumored that the reason they worked so well with the Commissariat was due to their bodies rather than their faith. Not that any would dare say that when in earshot of the officers. Nobody was stupid enough to question them to their face.

Potential scandals aside, the main reason they were so despised was due to their… infectious nature. Wherever they went, they spread like wildfire. The girls themselves were sterile, but every planet they visited would have a sudden drastic rise in the birth rate of mutant children. Almost all of which were Diclonius.

In addition to being troublesome for the honest citizens of the afflicted planets, this also meant that they had to construct specialized facilities to enact the behavioral therapy required to ensure the mutants didn't go off the rails. There had already been several incidents with some of the girls losing control. The messes were damned difficult to clean up afterwards.

It was a serious problem and there was no real way to contain it until they figured out what caused it. Rein sighed to himself. He of all people didn't need to be told twice about how quickly they could spread.

A soft tug at the hem of his uniform drew him out of his stupor. Looking down, he was greeted by a pair of wide, curious eyes, bright pink hair tied back in a ponytail, and a pair of horns.

"Papa?" The little girl asked, blinking with the wide-eyed gaze she'd inherited from her mother. "You said you'd read me a story today and mama say's it's bed time. Can you read to me please?"

Rein breathed out lightly, patting her on the head.

"I'm a bit busy right now Madeline." He offered, gesturing to the dataslate. "How about you head upstairs and I'll be there to read to you when I get finished?"

She shook her head vehemently, looking up to him with the kind of intensity only a child could muster.

"No! You gotta come with me!" She insisted. "You might forget otherwise!"

It was more or less what he'd expected. She was always clinging to him, seemingly afraid that he'd forget about her or leave when she wasn't looking. Maybe she could sense the way he could never fully relax around her, or maybe she was just naturally that way.

Whatever the case, he knew that she could be just as stubborn as he was. Setting down the last piece of work, he decided that it could wait another night before being sorted out. It wasn't like the Diclonius would be going anywhere anytime soon.

"All right, let's go get you tucked in then." He said, leaning down to pick up his daughter. She let out a squeal of delight, wrapping her arms around his neck to help the process. She enjoyed being carried.

As he hoisted her diminutive frame upwards with a grunt, she settled down against his chest with a noise of contentment. Her demeanor left him feeling more than a little worried.

The fevers had started a little while ago. He'd thought she was simply ill at first, but they kept coming. He'd been around enough of the girls to realize what that meant. Her vectors were coming in. Before long, she'd be able to use the same invisible limbs that had cut his arm to pieces.

She'd have to go for behavioral therapy. From what little he'd seen of those places, it wasn't a very pleasant or gentle experience. If she was receptive to it, she'd eventually be shipped off for training to eventually join the others like her on the battlefield. Right now, it was the only acceptable place for them.

If she wasn't receptive…

Rein shook his head to dislodge the thought. It was a worry he'd been having more and more lately. He was a loyal servant of the Imperium, but try as he might, he couldn't be comfortable with the idea of sending her away. She was a mutant. Dangerous, unusual, and likely a threat to anyone in her vicinity.

More than that though, she was his daughter. She'd already grown so much faster than she should have. He didn't want to have to give her up, especially not after having her for such a short time.

He made his way to the door with his precious bundle resting lightly in his arms. He still had connections to Cartwright. Maybe he could help keep her away from those facilities. At the very least, he could be there to watch over her during the process.

Rein shook his head again. It was a problem for another day. Right now, he had a story that needed reading. His mind was already going over the possible choices.

Shutting off the two lamps he had in the room, he closed the door behind him, leaving his office in the dim afternoon half-light.


End file.
